UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


.:low 


STAIE  NORMAL  SClWi, 


THE    SCHOOLS 


OF 


CHABLES    THE    GBEAT 


:    PHISTF.B    BV 


6POTTISWOODE     AHD  . 

AMD    PABUAMENT    BTRKET 

ANASTATBCHM  DRUCK«CPAII1S  BtRUN  N.58 


THE 


SCHOOLS  OF  CHAELES  THE  GREAT 


AND    THE 


IN    THE 


NINTH    CENTUBY 


2.X  ^7  2. 
BT 

J.   BASS    MULLINGER,  M.A. 

ST.  JOHN'S  COU.KQK,  CAMBRIDGE 

AUTHOR  Or  '  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE  FROM  THE  KARLXKT  TIMES 
TO  THE  ROYAL  INJUNCTIONS  OK  !»'•>'> '  ETC. 


»  CRli. 


AWARDED  THE  KAYE  PRIZE  OP  £  50U-.- 
ANASTATIC  REPRINT  OP  THE  EDITION  LONDON  IR77. 


NEW  YORK 

Q.  E.  STECMERT  &  CO. 
1911. 


TO    THE 


KEY.  CHRISTOPHER  WORDSWORTH,  M.A, 


FELLOW      Or      rKTKBHOUSK 

THIS    VOLUME 

IS 
GEATEFCLLY    INSCRIBED 


PBEFACE. 


THE  PERIOD  and  the  subject  to  which  this  volume  is 
devoted  have  both  no  ordinary  claim  on  the  attention  of 
the  student, — the  former,  as  representing  the  era  wherein, 
by  the  common  consent  of  the  most  eminent  authorities, 
we  may  find  the  true  boundary  line  between  ancient 
and  modern  history, — the  latter,  as  containing  the  key 
to  those  traditions  which  have  ever  since  prevailed  in 
European  education  and  can  scarcely  even  yet  be  re- 
garded as  superseded  or  effete. 

The  present  work  is  restricted  to  an  attempt  to  place 
in  a  clearer  light  the  character  of  the  learning  and  the 
theory  of  education  which  mediaeval  Europe  inherited 
from  a  combination  of  pagan  science  and  Christian  theo- 
logy, before  that  learning  and  that  education  were,  in  turn, 
modified  by  the  teaching  of  the  Schoolmen.  The  follow- 
ing pages  accordingly  represent  but  a  very  limited  field 
of  enquiry  in  the  wide  province  of  Carolingian  history ;  but 
that  field,  though  narrow,  is  not  unimportant.  That  it  is 
altogether  erroneous  to  look  upon  the  influences  trans- 


viii  PREFACE. 

mitted  by  the  reforms  and  policy  of  Charles  the  Great  as 
of  no  greater  permanence  than  the  fabric  of  the  Empire 
itself,  is  now  generally  conceded,  and  in  no  respect  have 
those  influences  had  a  more  enduring  effect  than  in  con- 
nexion with  the  history  of  mental  culture  in  Europe.  It 
is  indeed  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  in  this  somewhat 
unduly  neglected  ninth  century  we  may  discern,  as  in 
miniature,  all  those  contending  principles — the  conserva- 
tive, the  progressive,  and  the  speculative — which,  save  in 
the  darkest  times,  have  rarely  since  ceased  to  be  ap- 
parent in  the  great  centres  of  our  higher  education. 

While  the  author  has  freely  availed  himself  of  what- 
ever aids  or  suggestions  might  be  afforded  by  modern  con- 
tiibutions  to  the  literature  of  the  subject,  it  has  throughout 
been  his  endeavour,  as  far  as  practicable,  to  rely  mainly  on 
original  research,  and  the  references  to  his  authorities 
have  been  systematically  given.1  The  valuable  correc- 
tions of  the  chronology  and  text  of  Alcuin's  letters  con- 
tained in  DUmmler's  Alcuiniana  have  been  carefully 
noted,  but  it  has  been  thought  better,  as  a  rule,  to  refer 
in  the  notes  to  the  text  of  Migne's  Patrologia  (vols.  c  and 
ci),  as  more  generally  available. 

Two  volumes  treating  on  the  same  subject— Dr.  Karl 
Werner's  Alcuin  und  sein  Jahrkundert  (1876)  and  M. 

1  With  the  view  of  rendering  these  references  more  concise,  a 
List  of  the  Principal  Authorities  referred  to  has  been  prefixed,  in 
which  the  title  of  each  work  is  given  in  full,  together  -with  the 
edition  used — the  references  in  the  text  being  limited  to  the  name 
and  the  page. 


PREFACE.  be 

Ve'tault's  Charlemagne  (1877) — have  appeared  too  late  to 
enable  the  author  to  profit  by  any  additional  light  that 
these  writers  may  have  thrown  upon  the  period. 

In  conclusion,  his  thanks  are  due  to  the  two  adjudi- 
cators of  the  Prize — his  lordship,  the  bishop  of  Truro, 
and  professor  Edwin  Palmer,  of  Oxford — for  their  kind 
permission  to  append  an  additional  chapter,  which  serves 
to  illustrate  more  fully  the  connexion  of  the  present  sub- 
ject with  the  commencement  of  the  University  of  Paris 
and  of  European  university  history  at  large. 

February,  1877. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 

PAGE 

CHARLEMAGNE  and  Napoleon  I.  .....        1 

The  Carolingian  Empire  contrasted  with  modern  France  .  .  1 
PROGRESS  OF  CHRISTIANITY  AND  DECLINE  OF  PAGANISM  PRIOK  TO 

THE  AGE  OF  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  .  2 

Gaul  under  the  Empire  .  .  .  .  3 

Hostility  of  the  Church  to  pagan  learning ....  6 
The  true  origin  of  this  hostility  .  .  .  6 

Pagan  literature  condemned  by  the  authoritative  utterance  of  the 

Church  .....  8 

Counter-intolerance  of  paganism  .  .  .  8 

Decree  of  Julian  against  Christian  teachers,  A.D.  3G3  .  .  9 

Impolitic  severity  of  this  measure  .  .  .  9 

Testimony  of  Jerome  to  the  growing  neglect  of  pagan  literature  .  10 
Two  distinct  theories  as  to  the  advantages  derivable  from  1he  study 

of  that  literature  always  discernible  in  the  Church  .  .10 

Difficulties  of  the  position  of  the  Christian  educator  at  this 

period  .  .  .  .  .  .  11 

AusomTs          ........      11 

Character  of  the  education  imparted  in  the  imperial  schools  .  .  12 
Opportunities  alForded  by  his  high  position  and  by  circumstances 

for  beneficial  reforms      .  .  .  .  .  .13 

Status  of  the  public  instructor .  .  .  .  14 

Scope  afforded  for  private  enterprise  in  instruction  .  .14 

Ausonius  unequal  to  the  occasion          .  .  .  ..15 

Character  of  his  genius  .  .  .  .  .  .15 

SlDOJUUS   APOLLINARIS          .  .  .  .  .  lt> 

Circumstances  of  his  age  compared  with  those  of  that  of  Ausonius  17 
Triviality  of  tone  that  pervades  his  writings  .  .  .17 
His  literary  sympathies  opposed  to  the  theory  prevalent  in  the 

Church  in  his  time  .  .  .  .  .  18 
That  theory  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  finding  complete  expression 

in  practice           .            .            .            .            .            .            .  19 

Final  overthrow  of  the  Roman  or  pagan  traditions  .  20 


xii  CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

THE  PRANKISH  INVASION  AND  CONQUEST       .  .  .  .20 

The  Frank  and  the  Gallo-Koraan  compared     .  .  .      .       20 

The  Frankish  conquest  not  altogether  destructive  .  .      22 

SAXVIAN      .  .  .  .  •  •  •  .     .      22 

His  despair  of  his  countrymen        .  .  .  .  .23 

The  De  Gvbernationc  Dei        .  .  .  .  .      .      23 

Change  in  popular  feeling  with  respect  to  paganism          .  .      24 

RISE  OP  THE  SCHOOLS  OF  CASSIAN  .  .  ,  .     .      24 

The  monasticism  of  the  West        .  .  .  .  .24 

Antithesis  it  presents  to  the  eastern  theory      ,  .  .      25 

Main  facts  in  the  life  of  Cassian     .  .  .  .  .25 

His  Collationes  aud  Instiiutiones  .  .  •  ,      .       2(5 

Ilia  teaching  with  respect  to  pagan  literature        .  .  .27 

His  theory  in  relation  to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  .  27 

The  four  Scriptural  senses .  .  .  .  .  .28 

He  enjoins  active  and  laborious  duties  on  the  monk     .  28 

The  monastery  a  school  for  heaven  .  .  .  .29 

Points  in  which  the  rule  of  Cassiau  harmonised  -with  the  Fraukish 

character       .  .  .  .  .  .  20 

Rapid  progress  of  monasticism  in  Gaul  in  the  fifth  and  sixth 

centuries  .  .  .  .  .  .  .80 

The  monastic  and  episcopal  schools  supplant  the  municipal  schools  81 
Character  of  the  education  they  imparted  .  .  .  81 

Compact  between  the  Teutonic  conqueror  and  the  Latin  clergy  *  82 
The  tradi lions  of  the  schools  of  Cassian  unfavourable  to  the  literary 

spirit      ........      32 

Decline  of  theological  learning  in  these  schools  .  .      .      33 

GREGORY  OF  TOURS     .......      34 

His  testimony  to  the  decay  of  learning  .  .  36 

His  representations  confirmed  by  the  internal  evidence  of  his 

writings ........      35 

Testimony  of  Fortunatus          .  .  .  .  36 

The  Merovingian  dynasty  .  .  .  .  .  .36 

State  of  the  Church  under  this  dynasty  .  .  .      .      37 

Demoralisation  of  the  episcopal  order        .  .  .  .38 

Slate  of  the  monastic  discipline  .  .  .  .      .      38 

The  fervile  element  in  the  monasteries      .  .  .  .38 

Charles  Marlel  .  .  .  .  .      .      39 

Prospects  of  learning  at  the  accession  of  Pepin-le-Bref  .  .  39 

CHAPTER  I. 

CHARLES   THE   GREAT   AND   ALC'UJN ;   OR,   THE    SCHOOL   OF  THE    PALACE. 
Si.   COLUMBAJT  .  .  .  .  .       .        41 

Character  of  his  monastic  rule       .  .  .  4  .41 

ST.  BOMFACK  .  .  .  .  .  .      .      41 

Foundation  of  the  abbey  of  Monte  Casino  .  .  •      42 


CONTENTS.  xiii 

Sx.  BONIFACE — continued.  PA(!K 

Introduction  of  the  Benedictine  rule    .            .            ,  42 

Its  leading  characteristics .            .            .            .            .  .42 

Provision  made  for  regular  study  among  the  monks     .  .             42 

Boniface  in  Frankland       .            .            .            .            .  .43 

Measures  of  Church  reform      ....  .44 

Foundation  of  the  abbey  at  Fulda  .  »  .  .45 

Alliance  between  Rome  and  the  Carolinian  dynasty  .  .  45 

Influence  of  Boniface  with  respect  to  education  .  .46 

ACCESSION  OP  CHABLES  .  .  .  .  .  47 

He  meets  Alcuin  at  Parma  .  . '  .  47 

His  previous  efforts  in  the  cause  of  letters  .  .  47 
Paulus  Diaconus  .......  48 

TEACHERS  AT  YORK  :  Elbert  and  Eanbald .  .  .  .  .  49 

Position  of  Alcuin  at  York  .  .  .  .  .60 

He  accepts  the  office  of  instructor  of  the  Palace  School  .  .  60 

The  episcopal  or  cathedral  school  at  York  .  .  .61 

Its  tradition  of  learning  .  .  :  .  61 

THE  TEACHING   OF   GREGORY   THE   GREAT           .                .                .  .62 

Theories  associated  with  the  fall  of  Home       ,            .  62 

The  pagau  tradition           .            .            .            .            .  .63 

Views  of  Christian  writers       .            .            ...  63 

The  invasion  of  the  Lombards        .            .            ,            .  .63 

Gregory's  belief  that  the  world  was  near  its  end         ,  54 

General  acceptance  of  St.  Gregory's  teaching  in  England  .      64 

Its  transmission  through  the  teachers  of  Alcuin           .  64 

Antagonism  of  this  teaching  to  the  Eastern  Church         .  .      66 

Differences  between  British  and  Latin  Christianity     .  ,      .      66 

Controversy  concerning  Easter      .            .            .            .  .56 

Other  points  of  difference         .            .            .            .  67 

The  Roman  doctrine  supplants  that  of  the  British  Church  .      67 

Bede's  sympathy  with  the  former        .            .            .  .      .      68 

Bede's  mental  characteristics         .            .            .            .  .58 

Alcuin's  agreement  with  Bede .            .            .            .  69 

Harmony  between  his  views  and  the  Carolingian  policy    .  .      69 
THE  LIBRARY  AT  YORK  AND  THE  AUTHORS  STUDIED  BY  ALCTTIN     .      61  « 

Boethius           .            .            .            .            .            .  .      .      61 

Portions  of  his  translations  of  Aristotle  known  to  Alcuin  .  .      62 

Cassiodorus       .            .            .            .            .            .  63 

Isidorus      ........      63 

Martianus  Capella        .            .           .            .           .  64 

His  allegorical  treatment  of  his  subject     .            .            .  .64 

Influence  attributed  to  his  example      .            ,            .  05 

Speculative  character  of  the  treatise          .            .            .  .65 

Mistrust  with  which  it  was  consequently  regarded  by  the  teachers 

at  York         .            .            .            .            .            .  .      .       66 

Their  apprehensions  not  altogether  without  reason  66 


xir  CONTEXTS. 

TUB  LIBRARY  AT  YORK,  &c. — continued. 

The  absence  and  presence  of  the  treatise  alike  significant        .      .      67 
Influence  of  the  foregoing  text-books  on  subsequent  learning        .      67 
Favour  with  which  Charles  regarded  foreigners    .  .  .67 

Distractions  of  the  time  .  .  .  •  68 

The  Saxon  war      .  .  .  .  .  .  .68 

(  THE  PALACE  SCHOOL:  question  of  its  previous  existence  .  68 

^-'      Innovation  in  this  school  on  the  Gregorian  tradition          .  .       69 

Character  of  its  members         .  .  .  .  69 

Practical  nature  of  Charles'  designs  .  .  .  .70 

Charles'  own  acquirements       .  .  .  .  70 

Conditions  under  which  Alcuin's  instructions  were  imparted         .       71 
Members  of  the  circle  :  Charles  and  his  sons    .  ....      71 

Hie  sister,  his  wife  (Liutgarda),  and  his  daughter  ...       72 

Angilbert,  Adelhard  and  Wala,  Kiculfus,  Einhard,  Fredegis  .      .      72 
Names  assumed  by  members  of  the  school  .  ...       72 

Alcuin's  admiration  of  Charles  .  .  .  73 

His  post  a  laborious  one     .  .  .  .  .  .73 

Advantages  under  which  he  taught     .  .  .  74 

Alcuin  not  a  philosopher    .  .  .  .  .  .74 

His  reputation  aa  a  grammarian  .  .  .  74 

His  instruction  in  GRAMMAR          .  .  .  .  .75 

The  letter  denned .  .  .  .  .  .      .      75 

The  syllable    .......       76 

Strange  blunders  .  .  .  .  .  .      .       76 

Limitations  with  which  the  term  grammatica  was  employed 
by  Alcuin    .......      76 

Alcuin's  views  on  orthography      .  .  .  .      .      78 

Value  of  his  treatise    .  .  .  .  .  .78 

Real  extent  of  his  Greek  scholarship        .  .  .      .      79 

Tradition  of  Greek  learning  in  England          .  .  .80 

Bede's  testimony  .  .  .  .  .  .      .       80 

Alcuin's  Greek  quotations  mostly  from  Jerome  .  .      80 

Inaccurate  Greek  forms    .  .  .  .  .      .      80 

Illustration  from  Ozanam  of  superficial  critic 'sm  in  relation  to  the 
learning  of  the  period     .  .  .  .  .  .81 

Alcuin's  attempts  to  amuse  his  scholars  .  .  82 

His  RHETORIC  :      .  .  .  .  .  .  .83 

His  definition  of  rhetoric  .  .  .  .  .      .       83 

Meagre  treatment  of  the  subject         .  .  .  .84 

lie  descants  on  the  qualifications  of  the  orator     .  84 

HisdJstinction  between  the  moral  philosopher  and  theChristian 
teacher         ......  go 

His  LOGIC:       .  .  .  .  .  .  .      .      86 

Traditional  views  of  the  Church  with  respect  to  the  dialectic 
»rt  .  .  .  •  .  .  .  .86 

Alcuin's  treatment  of  arithmetic  and  astronomy    .  .  .88 


CONTENTS.  xr 

THE  PALACE  SCHOOL — continued.  PA«K 

His  explanation  of  an  astronomical  phenomenon  .  88 

Alcuin  as  a  THEOLOGIAN  :  .  .  .  .  ,  .89 

His  controversy  with  the  Adoptionists      .  .  89 

His  adherence  to  the  traditions  of  the  Latin  Church  .  .       89 

His  influence  specially  discernible  in   the   promotion   of  a 

spirit  of  deference  for  authority  .  .  90 

His  tendency  to  an  allegorical  interpretation  of  Scripture       .      90 

Influence  of  his  example  in  this  direction .  .  91 

The  pretensions  of  mediaeval  and  modern  teachers  contrasted       .       01 

Difficulties  of  Alcuin's  position  .  .  .  92 

His  contradictions  in  questions  of  metaphysics       .  .  .93 

'  Substance,' '  essence,'  and  '  being '  .  .  93 

Divergence  in  theory  among  his  successors  .  .  '.94 

Fredegis  as  a  Realist    .  .  .  .  .  95 

Alcuin's  chief  friends  :  Arno,  Benedict  of  Aniane,  and  Theodulfus       .      96 
Monasteries  placed  under  his  control  .  .  .  96 

Suspension  of  the  Saxon  war     .  .  .  .  .  .97 

Charles'  CAPITULARY  of  A.D.  787    .  .  .  .  .      .      97 

Alcuin's  hand  discernible    .  .  .  .  .  .99 

Charles  obtains  the  services  of  teachers  of  singing,  grammar,  and 
arithmetic  from  Rome      .  .  .  .  .  .      .     100 

Council  of  Aachen,  A.D.  789      ......     100 

The  Roman  method  of  chanting  enjoined         .  .  .  100 

Defective  state  of  MSS.  at  this  period  .  .  .  .  .100 

Charles  causes  a  Homilary  to  be  prepared  for  use  in  the  churches  .      .     101 
Capitularies  respecting  the  clergy          .  .  .  .  .101 

Capitulary  of  A.D.  789          .  .  .  .  .  .      .     102 

Every  monastery  to  have  its  school  ....     102 

THEODTTLFVS  :  his  Capitulary  to  the  clergy  of  his  diocese   .  ,      .     102 

He  initiates  a  system  of  free  education      ....     102 

Criticisms  of  Gibbon  and  Lorenz  on  the  period  compared   .  .     103 

Circumstances  that  induce  Alcuin  to  wish  to  retire  from  his  post         .     104 

His  ordeals  in  the  Palace  School          .  .  .  ,     104 

Frequent  journeys  .......     105 

Excitement  of  successive  wars .  .  .  .  .     105 

Laxity  of  the  court  life      .  .  .  .  .  .106 

Alcuin  revisits  England       .  .  .  .  .  »  106 

Disagreement  between  the  Mercian  and  the  Prankish  court     .  .     106 

War  averted  by  Alcuin's  efforts      .  .  .  .  .  107 

Subsequent  events  iu  England  ......     107 

THE  CAROLINES      ......  .  ...  .  .     .    107 

Alcuin  created  abbat  of  St.  Martin  of  Tours     ....    108 


xvi  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  II. 

AtCDIN  AT   TOURS;   OB,   THE    SCHOOL   OF   THE   MONASTERY. 

I'AOS 

Alcuin's  aims  and  sentiments  as  al>bat  .....     110 

IDs  increasing  austerity  in  relation  to  classical  literature    .  .      .     ]  10 

Mis  measures  of  reform  .  .  .  .  .  .  .111 

Hia  letter  to  Charles  .  .  .  .  .  .      .     Ill 

His  representations  to  Charles  somewhat  at  variance  with  his  actual 

discipline  .  .  .  .  .  .  .111 

Story  told  of  Sigulfua  .  .  .  .  .  ..Ill 

Alcuin's  general  discipline          .  .  .  .  .  .113 

Numerous  students  from  England    .  .  .  .  .  118 

Envy  of  the  Neustrians .  .  .  .  .  .  .     113 

Alcuin's  preference  for  his  own  countrymen  .  .  .     114 

Difference  in  this  respect  between  him  and  Charles      .  .  .114 

THK  IKISH  MONASTERIES  ix  IUK  SIXTH  AND  SEVENTH  CENTURIES    .     115 

Columban's  successes  in  Frankland      .  .  .  .     116 

Controversy  between  the  Celtic  and  Latin  Churches          .  .116 

The  light  in  which  such   controversies  present  themselves  in 
history          .  .  .  .  .  .  .      .     116 

Other  points  of  divergence  between   the   Celtic  and  the  Latin 
clergy      .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .117 

Denial  by  the  former  of  the  authority  of  Rome  .  .     117 

Resemblance  between  the   Celtic  and  the  Eastern   theological 
spirit       .  .  .  .-.  .  .  .     118 

Boniface  and  the  Irish  clergy   .  .  .  .  .     119 

Astronomical  knowledge  possessed  by  the  latter   .  .  .     119 

Charles'  interest  in  astronomical  questions .  .  .  .  120 

His  relations  with  Ireland          ......     120 

He  welcomes  Clement  of  Ireland  at  Aachen,  and  appoints  him  head  of 

the  Paiace  School     .  .  .  .  .  .     121 

Alcuin's  discomfiture     .......     121 

Alarm  of  the  orthodox  party  .  .  .  .  .  122 

Alcuin'*  further  correspondence  with  Charles  ....     123 

His  triumph  over  the  Adoptionists .  .  .  .  .     1 23 

He  declines  to  accompany  Charles  to  Rome      ....     124 

He  congratulate*  him  on  his  accession  to  the  imperial  dignity        .      .124 
His  dispute  with  Theodulfus     .  .  .  .  .125 

His  last  illness  and  death    .  .  .  .  .      .     125 

His  character  and  (services  estimated     .....     126 

CHAPTER  III. 
RABAND8  MAURUS  ;  OR,   THE   SCHOOL  AT  PTJLDA. 

Charles'  final  labours           .           .           .            .            .            .      .  128 

LBWIS  THE  Pious         .......  128 

Hi*  measures  of  rnform             .            .            .            ,            .  129 

Benedict  of  Aniane           .  129 


CONTENTS.  xvii 

FAOB 

The  COUNCIL  OT  AACHEN  .           .           .           .           .           •     .  129 

The  Benedictine  rule  generally  enforced    ....  129 

Scholars  not  designed  for  the  religious  life  to  be  separated  from 

the  oblati  in  the  monastic  schools      .            .            .            .      .  180 

THE  EPISCOPAL  SCHOOLS          .  .  .  .  .  .130 

Character  of  the  education  there  given             .            .            .  131 

The  schools  at  Orleans  and  Rheims            ....  131 

The  monastic  schools  at  Corbey,  St.  Riquier,  St.   Martin  of  Metz, 

St.  Bertin,  &c.    . 132 

DECLINE  ov  THE  SCHOOL  AT  TOURS           .           .           .           .     .  133 

Fredegis     ......••  133 

Alcuhi's  forebodings  verified     .            .            .            .            .      .  134 

Fees  exacted  from  the  scholars       .            .                         •            •  134 

LEWIS'  REFORMS     .           .           .           .           .           •           •  135 

Petition  of  the  bishops  for  the  founding  of  three  public  schools  136 

Outbreak  of  civil  war           .            .            .            .            .            •  136 

Lament  of  Floras  .  .  ,  .  .  .  .137 

RABANPS  MAURTTS  .           .           .           .           .           .           .  188 

He  is  sent  from  Fulda  to  Alcuin  at  Tours  .  .  .139 

His  return  to  Fulda     .            .            .            .            .            .      .  139 

Is  appointed  teacher  of  the  monastery  school         .            .            .  139 

Calamitous  experiences  of  the  community        .            .            .  139 

Misrule  of  Ratgar           .                .....  140 

Sufferings  and  discontent  of  the  monks            .            .            .      .  140 

Their  efforts  to  obtain  redress        .....  141 

Ratgar  is  deposed  and  Eigil  appointed  in  his  place      .  .      .141 

The  monastery  school  reopened      .            .            .            .            .  ]  42 

Rabanus'  De  Itistitvtione  Clericorum    .            .            .                  .  142 

The  rules  therein  laid  down  derived  mainly  from  the  Fathers       .  143 

Greater  liberality  of  sentiment  than  in  Alcuin's  writings         .      .  143 

Ilia  estimate  of  pagan  literature,  rhetoric,  and  dialectic    .            .  144 

His  view  with  respect  to  pagan  philosophy      .            .                  .  145 
Hie  commentary  on  St.  Matthew  .            .            .            .            .345 

Extravagancies  of  his  anagogical  interpretation            .            .      .  146 
His  superiority  to  Alcuin  in  his  interpretation  of  natural  phe- 
nomena  ........  147 

His  theory  of  subjective  illusions         .            .            .                  .  147 

He  rebukes  the  superstition  of  the  native  peasantry           .            .  148 

His  own  superstitious  veneration  of  relics        .            .            .      .  149 

Points  of  contrast  with  Alcuin       .....  160 

Testimony  of  Einhard  to  the  clearness  of  his  instruction           .      .  150 

Testimonies  of  Church  writers  to  his  merits           .            .            .  151 

His  activity  as  a  founder          .            .            .            .            .  161 

His  PUPILS:  "Walalrid  Strabo,  Otfried  of  Weissenberg,  Rudolfus, 

Liutpert,  &c.      .            .                        ....  152 

Difficulties  involved  in  the  theory  that  Rabanus  was  the  author  of 

the  gloss  discovered  by  Cousin         .            .            .            .  153 

a 


xviii  CONTENTS. 

RABANTTS  MAURTTS — continued  PACK 

His  aympathies  as  a  politician        .            .  .            .            .166 

Hia  loyalty  to  Lewis  the  Pious  and  to  Lothair  .            .      .     166 

He  retires  to  Peters  berg    .                         ...  .            ,165 

His  writings  while  in  retirement          ,            .  .                  .     166 

His  relations  to  Lothair  and  Lewis  the  German  .            ...     166 

He  i»  elected  archbishop  of  Maintz      .  .            .      .     166 

Influence  of  the  episcopal  order  at  this  period  .            .     166 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LUPUS    SERVATUS;   OR,   THE   CLASSICS    IN    THE    NINTH   CENTURY. 

Lupus  and  Alcuin  contrasted     ,            .                                     .  .     168 

Lupus1  early  education         .            .            .            .            .  168 

His  removal  to  Fulda  and  education  under  Rabanus  and  Einhard  .     1 6'.) 

His  return  to  Feme  res  and  promotion  to  the  abbatship      .  .169 

Intercourse  between  monastic  communities  at  this  period         ,  .169 

CHARLES  THE  BALD                                  .                     ,,           ,  .160 

His  literary  sympathies      .            »            .  .160 

Pi faculties  that  attended  his  reign       ,            ..  .     160 

The  invasions  of  the  Northmen      t            .            ,            ».  .     161 

Lupus  in  the  capacity  of  a  soldier  .            .            ,,         . . ,            ,  161 

Contiscation  of  monastic  lauds  by  the  nobility  ,            .            .  .     162 

St.  Judoc  taken  from  Ferrieres        .         .  ,           ...            ,  .102 

Remonstrance  of  Lupus  with  Charles                .'           •.,..,  .163 

Language  of  the  Council  of  Thionville       -.                    „•<    '        .  .     163 

Services  of  Lupus  to  the  state   .            ,            .        -   ,        •  .  •   •  .     164 

Tardiness  in  the  work  of  restitution            ,            .    .-.->.          .  .164 

His  services  to  the  Clmrch        .            .            ,            .        >    .  •     164 

Probable  date  of  his  death   .            .            .            t.          v           .  .     166 

Hw  devotion  to  letters  and  exalted  conception  of  their  use        .  .     166 

His  literary  correspondence .            .            .            .            .            .  166 

He  deplores  the  spirit  with  which  learning  is  regarded  by  the  majority    106 

His  perseverance  in  the  search  for  books           .                         .  .     106 

His  literary  criticism*          .            .            «            .            .            .  167 

Enumeration  of  classical  authors  that  appear  to  have  been  known  to 

him  .  .  .  .....     168 

Difficulties  and  dangers  that  attended  his  efforts     ,      .      ,"   .,      .  .     169 

The  influence  of  his  classical  studies  discernible  16U 


CHAPTER  V. 

JOHN    SCOTUS    EKIGENA  ;    OB,    THE    IRISH   SCHOOL. 

Observation  of  Thomas  Gale  .  .  .  .  .171 

John  the  connectiDg  link  between  preceding  schools  of  learning  and  the 

acholaetic  philosophy    .  .  .  171 


CONTENTS.  xix 

VACB 

His  birth  and  early  education    ......     172 

His  reception  at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald        .  .  .     ]  73 

Character  of  that  monarch .  .  173 

His  liberal  patronage  of  learning          .  ,     174 

Influx  of  Irish  scholars  into  Franklaud       .  .  .  .174 

Circumstances  of  John  Scotus1  arrival  contrasted  with  those  of  Alcuin'e     174 
flis  extensive  attainments         ....  .     1 74 

His  knowledge  of  Greek      .  .  .  .  .  .     175 

His  Celtic  culture          .  .  .  .  .  .  ,176 

Influence  exercised  on  his   mind  by  the  TitnoGiu  and   the  Pseudo- 

Dionysius   ...  ,     176 

The  latter  treatise  described  .  .  .  .     1 76 

John  invited  by  Charles  the  Bald  to  undertake  its  translation  ,  .     177 

Testimony  of  Anastasius  to  his  success        .  .  ..  .     177 

Influence  of  the  treatise  on  his  philosophy          .  .  ,  ,     173 

The  Timaeut.  .  .  .  ,      .     178 

The  Platonic  theory  not  reconcileable  with  predostinarianism   .  .179 

Hinemar  invites  John  to  reply  to  Gotteschalk  .  .     179 

Gori'ESCHAlK'8  PREVIOUS  CAREER  .  ,.  ,179 

His  theory  of  predestination     .                                     ...  180 

It  divides  the  Frankish  theologians            .            ,            ,  181 

Gotteschalk  strenuously  opposed  by  Kabanus  .            .            .  181 
His  efforts  at  propagating  his  doctrine       ,            4                         ,182 

His  appeal  to  the  Synod  of  Maintz       .                         ...  182 

His  condemnation  and  disgrace      .  ,  ,  .  .182 

His  sentence  at  the  Council  of  Chiersy             ,            .            .  183 

Counter  movement  in  his  favour     .....  183 

John  Scotus'  De  Praedestinatione     .            .             ,            .             .      .  184 

He  employs  the  aid  of  dialectic ......  184 

Maintains  that  religion  and  true  philosophy  cannot  be  opposed      .      .  185 

His  fourfold  method  of  argument           .....  185 

Features  in  his  treatise  that  specially  evoked  opposition      .                  .  186 

PlUJDEXTItTS        .  .  .  .  .  ,  .  .187 

His  reply  to  John  Scotus    .  .  .  .  .  .  187 

Small  value  of  these  treatises  in  relation  to  the  question  at  issue          .  188 
Sequel  of  the  controversy  in  the  ninth  century        .                         «      ,  189 
Value  of  its  literature  as  illustrative  of  the  progress  towards  scholas- 
ticism  .........  189 

Doubts  respecting  John's  latter  career  ,  ,  »  s  „  190 

Quid  distat  inter  ?....,.  190 

The  connexion  between  this  era  and  that  of  the  University  of  Paris     .  191 

Conclusion  .  192 


%*  The  subjoined  list  of  works  frequently  referred  to  in  the  following 
pages  is  here  given  in  order  to  obviate  unnecessary  repetition  of  the 
title  of  each  work  and  the  edition  used. 

ALCCINIAHA  :  ed.  Wattenbach  and  Dummlcr  iu  Jaffe,  Bibliothfca  Serum  Gcrma- 

nicarvm,  1873. 
AMPERE:  Histoire  Litteraire  de  la  France  avant  et  sous .  Charlemagne,  par  J.  J. 

Ampere.    3  v.  1870. 

BALUZH :  (Etienne)  Capiiularia  Begum  Francorum.     2  v.  1780. 
CAROLINA  :    (Einhardi  Epistolae,  Einhardi    Vita    Caroli  Magni,    etc.)   iu    Jaffe, 

Billiotheca  Serum  Gcrmanicarum,  1867. 
COSSABT  :  Labbi  and  Cossart,  Concilia,  ed.  Mansi.     1759-98. 
LUMMLEH:  (Ernst)  Geschlchte  des  Ost-FrankischenReichs,  1872. 
GUIZOT:  Hiatoire  de  la  Civilisation  en  France.     5  v.  1829-32. 
HArniAu :  Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  Scholastique.    Vol.  i.  1872. 
Liox  MAITUB:  Les  Ecolcs  Episcopates  et  Monastiques  de  V  Occident  depuis  C/uirle- 

magnejusqu'a  Philippe- Auguste.     1866. 
MILMAN  :  (Dean)  History  of  Latin  Christianity.     9  v.  1867. 
MONNIKH  :  Alcuin  et  Charlemagne.     1 864. 
OZANAH  :  La  Civilisation  Chretienne  chez  les  Francs.     1855. 
PAXQRAVB  '.  History  of  England  and  Normandy.    Vol.  i.     185. 
PEIITZ:  Monumenta  Germaniae  Historica,.     1826-69. 
PHANTL:  Geschichte  der  Logik  im  Abendlande.    Vols.  i-iv.  1855-70. 
KABAKI  MACHI  OPEBA  :  the  edition  in  6  volumes  by  Colvener.     1626. 


THE 

SCHOOLS  OF  CHARLES  THE   GREAT. 

^^^MMMVV* 
INTRODUCTION. 

IT  is  a  well-known  story  concerning  the  first  Napoleon,  that  INTKOD. 
when,  on  his  return  from  the  campaign  which  was  crowned  ~  rf 
by  the  splendid  victory  of  Austerlitz,  the  adornment  of  Paris,  magne  and 
as  the  capital  of  the  newly  inaugurated  Empire,  came  again  l  apo ' 
under  discussion,  he  abandoned  a  design  that  he  had  before 
conceived  of  erecting   on   the   Place   Vendome   a   column 
crowned  by  a  statue  of  Charlemagne,  and  that  there  rose 
instead  a  column  made  from  cannon  taken  on  the  field  of  the 
late  battle,  and  surmounted  by  a  statue  of  himself. 

His  change  of  purpose  was  warmly  commended  by  a  few  The  Caro- 
discerning  judges,  who  had  severely  criticised  the  earlier  idea,  jvofh-e 
•  and  had  failed  to  perceive  any  legitimate  connexion  between  contrasted 
^  the  great  emperor  of  Western  Christendom  and  an  emperor 
^  the   very  coinage  of  whose  realm  bore  on  its  reverse  the 
V  words  Republique  Fran^aise.      To  the  student  of  mediaeval 
\l  history  it  soon  indeed  becomes  apparent  that  differences  yet 
more  considerable  than  those  involved  in  dynastic  descent 
separate  the  empire  of  Charles  the  Great  from  that  of  modern 
Prance.     In  that  imperial  figure  which,  like  some  magnifi- 
cent colossus,  flings  its  shadow  athwart  the  boundary  that . 
divides  the  ancient  from,  the  modern  era,  lie  sees  a  ruler  of 
purely  Teutonic  blood,  king*  of  the  Lombards,  emperor  of 
the  Romans,  the  lord  of  more  than  half  the  Christian  world. 
The  kingdom  which  Louis  xi  received  from  Charles  vui,  or 
even  that  over  which  Louis  xiv  ruled  after  the  peace  of 
Westphalia,  resembles  the  domain  which  Charles  the  Great 

B 


2  INTRODUCTION. 

JNTROD.  bequeathed  to  Lewis  the  Pious,  only  as  the  province  of  a 
vast  emphe.  Charles  himself  was  German,  profondement 
Germain,  as  Ampere  candidly  admits.  He  spoke  the  Ger- 
man tongue ;  while  the  language  spoken  in  Neustria  and 
Aquitaine— the  countries  that  lay  within  the  boundaries  of 
modern  France— was  an  unformed  patois,  a  corrupt  Latin 
not  yet  sufficiently  transformed  to  be  recognised  as  Trench. 
Paris,  the  modest  Lutetia  whose  Gallic  simplicity  had  won 
the  affections  of  Julian,  was  as  yet  but  a  third-rate  provin- 
cial town  *  which  the  lord  of  Rome  and  Aachen  once  visited 
in  the  course  of  a  long  progress  amongst  a  string  of  its  lowly 
fellows.' '  Four  centuries  were  yet  to  elapse  before,  uuder 
the  rule  of  another  dynasty  and  another  race,  the  Neustrian 
land  was  to  become  a  terror  to  Western  Europe,  the  rude 
patois  to  have  developed  into  the  language  not  only  of  France 
but  of  the  court  and  the  legislature  of  England,  the  pro- 
vincial town  to  have  become  transformed  into  a  splendid 
capital  whose  genius  and  learning  attracted  admirers  and 
disciples  from  all  parts  of  Christendom.  It  will  not  be  irre- 
levant to  our  main  enquiry  if,  before  entering  upon  any  dis- 
cussion of  the  state  of  education  in  the  times  of  Charles  the 
Great,  we  devote  a  few  pages  to  a  consideration  of  the 
vicissitudes  of  political  power  and  the  traditions  of  learning 
during  the  dim  and  troublous  period  that  separates  his  reign 
from  that  of  Augustulus  and  the  suspended  succession  of  the 
Western  Emperors. 

Progress  of  The  history  of  Western  Europe,  long  before  the  rise  of 
Sty  and  *ue  Carolingian  dynasty,  had  begun  to  assume  that  character 
decline  of  which  gives  to  the  annals  of  Christendom  an  interest  far  sur- 
passing  that  of  all  other  histories,  in  the  manner  in  which 
*fc  exlli^t3»  Par%  in  conflict,  partly  in  fusion,  the  Aryan  and 
tha  Great,  the  Semitic  traditions  and  habits  of  thought.  With  the 
commencement  of  the  seventh  century,  it  is  trne,  the  long 
but  unequal  struggle  between  Christianity  and  paganism 
must  have  seemed  definitely  at  an  end.  The  legislation  of 
Theodosius  had  repressed  the  ancient  worship  in  the  East; 
that  of  Honorius  had  confiscated  its  material  resources  in 
1  Freeman,  Essays  (First  Series),  p.  176. 


INFLUENCE  OF  ROME.  3 

the  West.  Even  so  early  as  the  time  of  Theodosius  II  the  INTROD. 
eastern  ruler  could  venture  to  assume  that  the  old  faith  was 
virtually  extinct.1  A  like  fate  might  well  seem  to  be  over- 
taking pagan  learning.  At  Athens  the  fiat  of  Justinian  had 
closed  the  schools  of  philosophy  and  driven  its  last  adherents 
into  exile.  At  Alexandria,  where  eclecticism  had  sought  to 
mediate  between  that  philosophy  and  Christian  dogma,  the 
Saracen,  scornful  alike  of  Christian  and  pagan  culture,  had 
given  the  literary  treasures  of  the  Serapeum  to  the  flames 
and  was  reigning  with  undisputed  sway. 

It  was  precisely  when  Christianity  thus  began  to  receive 
the  unquestioning  allegiance  of  the  Latin  race,  that  a  new 
field  of  conquest  opened  up  before  it  amid  the  Teutonic  na- 
tions. The  records  of  that  conquest,  although  chequered 
with  much  that  is  melancholy  and  repulsive,  still  form  un- 
doubtedly one  of  the  most  glorious  chapters  in  the  history  of 
the  Church.  As  the  thought  and  literature  of  subjugated 
Greece  had  led  captive  the  conquering  Roman,  so  the  reli- 
gion and  culture  of  Christian  Borne  subdued  the  strong  will 
and  overthrew  the  gods  of  the  victorious  Teuton.  The  days 
of  the  decline  of  the  Roman  power  were  indeed,  as  has  been 
truly  said,  the  days  of  its  greatest  conquests ;  the  victories 
gained  on  the  Metaurus,  at  Pydna,  and  on  the  Halys,  shine 
with  but  an  evanescent  lustre  when  compared  with  those 
won  by  the  faith,  the  laws,  and  the  institutions  of  Christian 
Rome. 

Of  all  the  races  subdued  by  the  arms  of  pagan  Rome  Oauluuder 
none  appear   eventually   to  have  yielded  a  more  complete  *|^  " 
submission  to  her  rule,  or  to  have  enjoyed  a  larger  share  of 
prosperous  contentment  beneath  her  sway,  than  the  inhabi- 
tants of  southern  Gaul.     It  had  been  the  constant  endeavour 
of  the  emperor  Augustus  to  lead  them  to  forget  their  ancient 
freedom  and  to  abolish  or  transform  their  national  institu- 
tions.  With  this  view  he  sought  to  obliterate  all  distinctions 
of  race  and  all  local  traditions.     He  redistributed  the  privi- 
leges of  states  and  cities,  shifted  the  centres  of  government, 

1  '  Pagani  qui  supersunt  .  .  .  quamquam  jam  nullos  esse  credamus,  etc.' 
Cod.  Theod.  xrv  xx. 

B  2 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  ignored  the  distinctions  between  Celt  and  Iberian,  and 
pushed  back  the  northern  boundary  of  Aquitania  from  the 
Garonne  to  the  Loire.  His  efforts  were  crowned  by  almost 
complete  success.  The  Gaul  of  the  south,  when  the  work  of 
subjugation  had  been  once  decisively  accomplished,  desisted 
from  the  struggle  for  freedom,  and  sank,  like  the  kindred 
race  in  Britain,  into  contented  acquiescence  with  his  lot. 
No  vigorous  resistance  like  that  offered  by  Lutetia  to  the 
arms  of  Caesar,  and  for  which  she  paid  so  dearly  in  her  en- 
forced obscurity  among  the  Vecfigales — no  sudden  insurrec- 
tion like  that  of  Civilis — is  recorded  on  the  part  of  the 
pleasure-loving  natives  of  Narbonnensis  and  Aquitania. 
Throughout  the  tranquil  and  prosperous  age  of  Hadrian  and 
the  Antonines,  a  halo  of  prosperity,  refinement,  and  classic 
culture  surrounds  the  Gallic  cities.  It  became  their  pride 
to  share  in  the  splendour  and  to  reflect  the  civilisation  of 
Rome.  The  native  idioms  well-nigh  disappeared.  At 
Lugdunum,  before  the  close  of  the  second  century,  Latin 
appears  to  have  become  the  vernacular  speech.'  The  inhabi- 
tants of  Auvergne,  the  foremost  province  in  wealth  and 
perhaps  in  learning,  delighted,  according  to  Sidonius 
Apollinaris,  to  believe  that  along  with  the  founders  of  the 
Roman  power  they  could  trace  back  a  common  descent  from 
Trojan  ancestors.2  The  Burgundians,  with  equal  pride, 
asserted  their  descent  from  Rome.3 

But  precisely  in  proportion  as  they  embraced  the  institu- 
tions and  customs  of  ancient  Rome,  the  Gauls  shared  in  the 
degeneracy  of  the  empire.  Even  so  early  as  the  first  cen- 
tury, the  historian  had  described  them  as  dites  et  imbelles  ;4 
and  while,  on  the  one  hand,  the  Gaul  sought  to  dignify  his 
descent  by  claiming  affinity  with  the  Roman,  the  German, 
on  the  other  hand,  deemed  his  ancestry  best  vindicated  by 

1  Amp&re,  i  143. 

9  '  Audebant  se  quondam  fratres  Latio  dicere,  et  sanguine  ab  lliaco  populos 
computare.'    Sidon.  Apoll.  Epist.  vii  7. 

*  <Jam  inde  temporibus  priscis  subolem  se  esse  Romanam  Burgundii 
aciunt.'    Avitus  Viennensia,  Epist. 

*  Tacitus,  Annales,  xi  18. 


INFLUENCE  OF  THE  FATHERS.  5 

disclaiming  kinship  to  the  Gaul.1  As  we  follow  the  history  INTROD. 
of  the  wealthy  and  luxurious  cities  successively  subdued  by 
the  Roman,  the  Goth,  and  the  Frank,  it  is  easy  to  perceive 
that  their  civilisation  was  not  of  a  kind  from  whence  we 
could  expect  a  great  restoration  of  science  and  learning. 
History  presents  us  with  no  such  phenomenon  in  the  annals 
of  a  conquered  and  degenerate  people.  Koine's  most  en- 
during conquests  were  achieved,  not  among  the  races  whom 
she  subjugated,  but  among  those  who  had  broken  down  the 
fabric  of  her  political  empire. 

It  would  be  easy  accordingly  at  once  to  overstep  six  cen- 
turies, by  simply  assuming  that  our  enquiry  is  connected,  not 
with  a  revival  of  learning  in  southern  Gaul,  but  inFrankland, 
and  has  its  chief  interest  in  relation  to  a  Teutonic  rather  than  a 
Latin  element.  Such  a  summary  method  of  treatment  would, 
however,  leave  unexplained  much  that  is  interesting  in  itself, 
and  directly  connected  with  our  subject,  and  it  will  conse- 
quently be  desirable  to  take  up  in  chronological  order  those 
important  moments  in  preceding  history  which  otherwise 
would  admit  of  being  satisfactorily  explained  only  by  lengthy 
and  frequent  digressions.  We  propose  therefore  to  devote  a 
few  pages  to  a  brief  but  careful  consideration  of  some  of  the 
chief  vicissitudes  in  the  annals  of  learning,  as  its  traditions 
changed  from  those  of  paganism  to  those  of  Christianity,  — 
from  those  of  Treves,  Clermont,  and  Bordeaux  to  those  of 
Christian  Rome  and  of  Canterbury  and  York. 

It  is  a  fact  familiar  to   all  students   of    ecclesiastical  Hostility 
history,  that  the  efforts  of  the  teachers  of  early  Christendom  church  to 


were  directed  to  the  abolition  and  destruction  of  that  very 
literature  which  modern  Christendom  has  done  its  best  to 
restore  and  has  cultivated  with  such  untiring  assiduity. 
Those  efforts  were  attended  with  almost  complete  success, 
and  in  the  Western  Church  the  teaching  of  the  Fathers  proved 
fatal  to  the  reign  of  the  philosophers.  The  blame  attaching 
to  what,  in  the  eyes  of  modern  learning,  seems  but  narrow 

1  '  Treveri  et  Nervii  circa  affectationem  Germanicse  originis  ultro 
ambitiosi  sunt,  tanquam  per  hanc  gloriam  sanguinia  a  similitudine  et  inertia 
Gallorum  separentur.1  Tacitus,  Germama,  c.  28. 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  and  mistaken  illiberality  rests  perliaps,  in  the  first  instance, 
with  Tertullian,1  but  can  scarcely  with  justice  be  charged 
solely  on  the  teachers  of  the  Church.  The  names  of  Clemens 
of  Alexandria,2  of  Origen,  of  Augustine  himself,  are  sufficient 
to  prove  that  there  were  great  minds  within  her  pale  to 
whom  the  acceptance  of  Christian  truth  did  not  seem  to 
require  the  rejection  of  all  that  Athens  or  Rome  had  be- 
queathed for  the  enlightenment  of  mankind.  But  unhappily 
the  adherents  of  the  old  belief,  as  the  indications  of 
its  approaching  downfal  multiplied,  were  led  in  their 
anger  and  desperation  to  adopt  a  policy  which  super- 
added  to  the  already  existing  contempt  the  bitter  enmity 
of  the  Church.  They  advanced  rival  claims,  opposed  their 
deities  to  the  newly  proclaimed  Triune  God,  and  asserted 
the  possession  of  miraculous  powers.  We  know — and  it  is 
one  of  the  most  important  features  in  the  history  of  the  early 
Church — that  these  claims  were  far  from  being  distinctly 
denied  by  her  defenders,  and  that  they  consequently  served 
to  intensify  the  Christian  abhorrence  of  paganism  to  a  ten- 
fold degree.  The  accusation  brought  against  our  Lord  by 
his  enemies — that  He  cast  out  evil  spirits  by  Beelzebub's  aid 
— was  substantially  identical  with  that  made  by  Tertullian, 
Arnobius,  and  Lactantius  against  their  pagan  antagonists. 
The  ancient  polytheism,  in  their  view,  was  a  bowing  down  to 
the  very  powers  of  darkness,  and  the  Christian  was  accord- 
ingly bound  to  carry  on  unceasing  warfare  against  its 
adherents.  To  the  imaginative  and  fairy-like  conception  of 
the  old  mythologies  there  now  succeeded  a  dark  and  gloomy 
belief  in  the  omnipresence  of  hostile  and  malignant  spirits. 
Wherever  his  worldly  avocations  led  him — in  the  market- 
place, the  courts  of  justice,  the  public  baths,  in  the  very 

1  '  Quaerendum  autem  est  etiam  de  ludi-magistris  et  decaeteris  professor- 
ibus  litterarum,  imo  non  dubitandum  affines  illos  esse  multimodae  idolo- 
latriae.'  De  Idololat.  c.  10 ;  Migue,  i  673-5.  Tortullian's  chief  argument 
against  the  scholastic  profession,  as  involving  what  was  incompatible  with 
fidelity  to  Christian  principles,  appears  to  have  been  derived  from  the 
necessity  that  the  teacher  was  under  of  discoursing  about  the  pagan 
mythology  and  of  observing  the  pagan  festivals  as  opportunities  of  gaining 
presents  from  his  pupils. 

3  See  Stromata,  I  9j  Migue  (S.  G.)  viii  739. 


PAGANISM  AND  CHRISTIANITY.  7 

streets — the  Christian  walked  surrounded  by  unseen  enemies  INTROD. 
intent  on  his  spiritual  destruction.  Between  him  and  paga- 
nism there  lay  no  neutral  ground;  every  influence  not  in 
direct  alliance  with  the  faith  was  regarded  as  alien  and 
hostile.1  This  position,  once  forced  upon  the  defenders  of 
Christianity,  proved  for  a  long  period  unalterable,  and  in- 
volved its  maintainers  in  a  bitter  and  painful  contest. 
Otherwise,  had  it  not  been  for  pretended  miracles,  like  those 
of  Apollonius  of  Tyana — for  theurgic  powers,  like  those 
claimed  by  the  Neo-Platonists — for  aggressive  controversial 
efforts,  like  those  of  Porphyry — it  is  far  from  improbable  that 
paganism  might  have  been  suffered  to  die  out,  in  obedience, 
as  it  were,  to  the  law  of  natural  decay.  And  as  St.  Paul, 
when  taking  his  stand  on  the  Areopagus,  recognised,  in  the 
worship  that  he  saw  around,  an  element  whereon  to  found  his 
own  immortal  appeal,  so  the  Christian  teacher  of  subsequent 
generations  might  perhaps  have  regarded  the  temples  and  rites 
of  paganism  more  in  compassion  than  in  anger,  might  even 
have  discerned  in  them  traces  of  a  sacred  and  undying  aspi- 
ration of  the  human  soul,  of  men  seeking  after  God  if  haply 
they  might  find  Him. 

But  this  was  not  to  be  ;  and  paganism,  as  it  fell,  wore  in 
the  eyes  of  its  destroyers  the  guise  of  a  foul  and  monstrous 
creation.  The  legend  of  St.  George  and  the  Dragon,  like 
many  others  of  the  same  character,  is  fairly  typical  of  the 
aspect  under  which  the  struggle  between  Christianity  and 
paganism  was  viewed  by  the  defenders  of  the  faith.  In 
sentiments  like  these  it  is  not  difficult  to  discern  the  true 
explanation  of  the  attitude  assumed  by  the  Fathers.  Their 
abhorrence  (a  milder  term  would  be  inadequate)  of  paganism 
as  a  system  generated  a  vague  mistrust  of  all  pagan  thought 
—of  its  philosophy,  its  science,  its  history,  and  its  poetry. 
The  concession  wrung  from  the  stern  Tertullian,  in  the  midst 
of  his  invectives  against  Plato,  Zeao,  Aristotle,  Epicurus, 

1  It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that,  as  Christianity  gained  the  ascendant, 
we  find  the  upholders  of  paganism  admitting  the  superiority  of  the  God  of 
the  Christians,  but  at  the  same  time  urging  that  the  objects  of  their  worship 
might  fairly  claim  to  rank  as  inferior  deities !  See  a  singular  passage 
quoted  by  Ampere  (i  211)  from  the  Panegyrici  Veteccs. 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTHOD. 


Pagan 
literature 
con- 
demned by 
the  autho- 
ritative 
utterance 
of  the 
Church. 


Counter- 
intoler- 
ance of 
paganism. 


Heraclitus,  and  Empedocles  alike,  that,  notwithstanding, 
something  of  the  spirit  of  truth — nonnullus  etiam  afflatus 
veritatis  l — was  discernible  in  their  contempt  of  the  vulgar 
creed,  could  not  avail^to  redeem  the  philosophies  of  the 
Academy,  the  Lyceum,  and  the  Stoa  from  one  sweeping 
condemnation.  '  Kefrain,'  says  the  authoritative  utterance 
of  the  Church  of  this  period,  ( refrain  from  all  the  writings  of 
the  heathen,  for  what  hast  thou  to  do  with  strange  dis- 
courses, laws,  or  false  prophets,  which  in  truth  turn  aside 
from  the  faith  those  who  are  weak  in  understanding  ?  For 
if  thou  wilt  explore  history,  thou  hast  the  Books  of  the 
Kings ;  or  seekest  thou  for  words  of  wisdom  and  eloquence, 
thou  hast  the  Prophets,  Job,  and  the  Book  of  Proverbs, 
wherein  thou  shalt  find  a  more  perfect  knowledge  of  all  elo- 
quence and  wisdom,  for  they  are  the  voice  of  the  Lord,  the 
only  wise  God.  Or  dost  thou  long  for  tuneful  strains,  thou 
hast  the  Psalms ;  or  to  explore  the  origin  of  things,  thou 
hast  the  Book  of  Genesis ;  or  for  customs  and  observances, 
thou  hast  the  excellent  law  of  the  Lord  God.  Wherefore 
abstain  scrupulously  from  all  strange  and  devilish  books.' 2 

With  this  unsparing  proscription  impending  over  the 
whole  body  of  pagan  literature,  the  severity  with  which  the 
emperor  Julian  retaliated  on  the  Christians  must  be  allowed 
to  have  had  a  certain  logical  justification.  He  argued  that 
even  if  the  Christian  teachers  really  believed  that  the  gods 
whom  Homer,  Hesiod,  Thucydides,  and  Demosthenes  wor- 
shipped were  impure  and  malignant  daemons,  it  was  never- 
theless unfair  to  make  the  works  of  those  authors  the  instru- 
ment of  an  attack  upon  the  ancient  faith.  To  expound 

1  Apologia,  c.  14. 

2  TStv  edviKuv  /St/SX/odv  irdvrcov  uir€\ov.     Ti  yap  o~oi  KOI  aXXorpi'ois  Xdyot?,  fj 
pd/jotf,  f)  tyevftoTrpofpTiTais,  a  8f)  KOI  irapaTpeirei  TTJS  irlovfus  TOVJ  Z\a<ppovs ; 
TI  yap  o~oi  KOI  XnVft  ei>  T<U  i/o/ia>  TOU  Geou,  iva  eV  tK€?va  ra  (dvopvOa  6pfj,f)<T€is ; 
flrf  yap  ioropwca  6i\tis  o~i€p\«rdai,   t^tis  ras  /SaeriXft'ovr,  eire  <ro(pioTiKa  KOI 
TroirjTiKa,  txfis  TOVS  irpocpifras,  rov  'Io)ft)T6virapoifJLia<rrriv,fvols  Trd<rr)s  iroir]<r((as 
KM  vofpitrreias  TrXet'oi/a  dy\ivoiav  evpr)<rcis,  on  Kvpt'ou  TOV  ftovov  aotpoti   Gfov 

fltnv  '  tire  acr/iartKcoi/  optyr},  «xetf  TOVS  ^aX/iouf  '  «re  dp\cuoyovias, 
v  yfv«Tiv  '  tiTf  vofj.lfuov  tern  Tra.payyf\iwv,  rov  ev8o£ov  Kvpt'ou  TOV  Qfov 
Hdvrwv  ovv  T&V  aXXorpt'wf  KCH  diafto\iK$>v  l<rxvpa>s  airoo~xov.     Apost. 
Const,  bk.  I,  c.  6 ;  Cote^jrius,  Patres  Apost.  i  206. 


DECREE  OF  JULIAN.  9 

Homer  with  a  view  to  denouncing  all  that  Homer  held  most  INTROD. 
sacred  and  venerable,  was  malevolent  and  base.      If  they  ^         „ 
were  determined  to  reject  the  belief  of  Greece  and  Borne,  Julian 
let  them  quit  the  schools  of  grammar  and  rhetoric  and  limit  Christian 
their  instruction  to  expounding  the  pages  of  the  Evangelists  teachers, 
in  the  churches  of  the  Galileans.1 

Such  were  the  grounds  on  which  the  philosophic  emperor 
justified  his  expulsion  of  the  Christians  from  the  office  of 
public  instructors.  His  veto,  it  is  to  be  observed,  did  not  ex- 
tend to  the  Christian  learner.  Tertulliau  himself  had  con- 
ceded that  the  children  of  the  faithful  must  still  seek  the 
elements  of  knowledge  where  alone  they  were  to  be  acquired,2 
and  Julian,  on  the  other  hand,  hoped  that  in  such  an  atmo- 
sphere they  would  unlearn  the  narrow  bigotry  of  their  reli- 
gious creed.  Even  his  positive  enactment,  if  we  accept  the  Impoiitic 

severity  of 

view  of  Baur,3  was  not  designed  to  drive  the  Christian  from  this  mea- 
the  centres  of  civilisation  and  intellectual  culture,  but  simply  sure> 
to  afford  protection  to  the  pagan  faith,  and  to  make  the 
missile  of  its  adversaries  recoil  on  their  own  ranks.     But 
even  by  contemporary  writers  it  was  regarded  as  an  act  of 
excessive  severity.     In  the  language  of  Gregory  Nazianzen 
it  seemed  to  limit  to  the  exclusive  possession  of  a  party  that 
which  was  rightly  the  property  of  the  whole  intellectual 
world;4  and  Ammianus  Marcellinus,  pagan  though  he  was, 
denounced  it  as  illud  inclemens,  obruendum  perenni  silentio.5 

But  however  Julian's  defenders  may  seek  to  justify  or 
extenuate  his  decree,  it  is  certain  that  in  the  sequel  it  proved 


1  Et  &  rovr  Ti/ita>raTovs  VTro\a[iftdvov<ri  7r«rXai^o-^ai,  fiadifovrav  tls  ras 
T£V  FaXiXauoj/  fKK\rja-iiis,  e^rjyrjarofj.evoi  Mardaiov  icai  \ovicav.  Epist.  42.  Nd/*a> 
(Kf\fVf,  \pumavovs  TTOiBfixreats  /"}  p.tTf\fiv.  "iva  prj,  (prjvlv,  aKovafJxvoi  TTJV 
•yXwrrav,  rroi'/ia>?  irpbs  rovt  SiaXticriKovs  rS>v  'EXXiji/cov  diravranriv.  Socrates, 
Hut.  Eccl.  ra  12.  Migne  (S.  G.),  Ixvii  412. 

8  '  Huic  necessitas  ad  excusationem  deputatur,  quia  aliter  discere  non 
potest.'  De  Idolol  c.  10  ;  Migne,  i  675. 

*  Die  Christliche  Kirche,  ii  42.    See  also  Gieseler,  i  313,  note  5. 

4  'Us  aXXorpiov  ica\ov  <f)£>pas,  rS>v  X«5y«ai/  rjfias  dirr)\a<rev  .  .  .  'ArriKifstr 
fitv  exoXvo-e,  r6  8e  aXrjQfvtiv  OVK  (irav<rt.    Greg.  Naz.   Orat.  I   cont.  JuKanum, 
Migne  (S.  G.),  xxxv  636. 

5  Rerum  Gest.  lib.  xx  x,  7  ;  see  also  XXIY  iv,  20  ;  ed.  Eyssenhardt,  pp. 
248,  328. 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

IN  TROD,  eminently  disastrous  to  that  very  culture  which  he  had  fondly 
hoped  to  protect.  Within  less  than  half  a  century  after  his 
death  we  find  Jerome  writing  from  his  cell  at  Bethlehem,  and 
recording  in  exultant  tones  the  universal  neglect  that  had 
overtaken  pagan  learning.  In  earlier  years  the  great  father 
had  himself  found  solace  in  his  vigils  over  the  page  of  Cicero 
and  Plautus.  A  heavenly  warning  admonished  him  of  his 
error.  One  night,  while  thus  engaged,  he  was  overcome  by 
sleep,  and  borne  off  in  a  vision  to  heaven  ;  and  there  he 
heard  a  voice  addressing  him,  Ciceronianus  es,  non  Christianus, 
ubi  enim  thesaurus  tuus  ibi  est  cor  tuum,.1  Thenceforth  the 
utterances  of  pagan  eloquence  and  fancy  were  for  him  a  closed 
volume.  He  candidly  admits  indeed  that  as  he  turned  from 
the  page  of  Plato  to  that  of  the  sacred  prophets  their  lan- 
guage seemed  harsh  and  rude  ;  but  no  father  has  left  more 
emphatically  on  record  his  conviction  that  the  study  of  the 
pagan  authors  was  incompatible  with  the  Christian  profes- 
sion. Notwithstanding  his  earlier  predilections,  we  find  him 
therefore  hailing  with  apparently  unqualified  satisfaction  the 
oblivion  that  seemed  to  be  spreading  over  the  literature  he 
Testimony  had  so  greatly  admired.  '  How  many,'  he  asks,  '  now  read 
to  the°m  Aristotle  ?  How  many  know  even  the  names  of  Plato's 
growing  writings  ?  Here  and  there,  in  some  retired  nook,  old  age 

neglect  of  .  . 

pagan         recons  them  at  its  leisure  ;  while  our  rustics  and  fishermen 
literature.    are  tne  talk  of  ai^  an(j  the  whole  world  echoes  with  their 

discourse.'8 
Two  dis-  It  would  be  a  task  of  considerable  research  to  point  out 


theories  as  a*  kn£*k  ^ow>   as   tnis   tradition   of   the   Latin   Fathers 

to  the  ad-  gathered  strength,  the  classical  spirit  declined.      From  the 

derivaWe  days  when  Tertullian  first  denounced  the  ancient  literature, 

from  the  down  to  the  days  of  Bossuet  and  Fenelon,  two  contending 

pagan  theories  are  distinctly  present  in  the  Christian  Church  —  the 

literature  theory  of  those  who  advocated  the  doctrine  of  the  African 

alwuys  • 

discernible  father,  and  the  theory  of  those  who  contended  that  the 

Church.  l  -^P1**'  <"*  Eustochium,  Migne,  xxii  410. 

2  '  Quotusquisque  nuno  Aristotelem  legit  P  Quanti  Platonia  vel  libros 
novere,  vel  nomen  ?  Vix  in  angulis  otiosi  senes  eos  recolunt.  Rusticanofl 
vero  et  piscatores  nostros  totus  orbis  loquitur,  uuivereus  mundus  sonat.' 
Pi'tef.  ad  Comment,  in  Epist.  ad  QaMas,  lib.  ill,  c.  6  ;  Migne,  xxvi  401  . 


THE  IMPERIAL  SCHOOLS.  U 

knowledne  and  study  of  the  masterpieces  of  antiquity  might  INTROD. 
fitly  and  advantageously,  under  certain  limitations,  find  a 
place  in  the  education  of  Christian  youth.  At  the  time,  how- 
ever, that  Jerome  wrote,  those  who  upheld  the  former  view 
laboured  under  one  signal  disadvantage — that  in  the  West  no 
distinct  scheme  of  Christian  education  had  as  yet  been  put 
forth  as  a  substitute  for  the  scheme  of  paganism.  Unless 
therefore. all  system  and  method  were  to  be  discarded,  the 
Christian  schoolmaster  could  only  follow  in  the  track  marked 
out  by  the  imperial  schools,  and  thus,  as  we  shall  shortly  see, 
was  still  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  pagan  authors.  The  Difficulties 
man  might  be  censured  for  devoting'  his  mature  powers  to  of  *£? 

0  position  of 

the  study  of  profane  literature  ;  but  the  boy  and  the  youth  the  Chris- 
must  perforce  still  derive  their  training  from  the  page  of 
Horace  and  Vergil,  of  Terence  and  Pliny,  of  Quintilian  and 
Donatus.  It  is  easy  also  to  understand  that  in  times  when, 
notwithstanding  the  activity  of  thought  and  speculation,  all 
technical  knowledge  was  experiencing  a  general  decline,  the 
teachers  in  those  schools  to  which  southern  Gaul  was  in- 
debted for  so  much  of  her  renown  felt  little  inclined  to  de- 
part from  their  inherited  traditions.  Autun,  already  famed 
for  her  schools  in  the  days  of  Tacitus,  and  rejoicing  in  the 
proud  appellation  of  '  the  Celtic  Rome' — Treves,  which  had 
imparted  to  St.  Ambrose  his  Gallic  style,  and  within  whose 
precincts  Lactantius  had  composed  treatises  which  recalled 
the  classic  eloquence  of  Cicero — Clermont,  where  the  princi- 
ples of  Eoman  jurisprudence  were  taught  and  elucidated — 
Besan9on,  Lyons,  Vienne,  Narbonne,  Toulouse  and  Bordeaux, 
schools  of  scarcely  inferior  note — all  alike  exhibited  that  tena- 
cious adherence  to  tradition  which  is  nowhere  more  conspic- 
uous than  in  the  history  of  the  great  centres  of  learning. 

During  the  period  that  the  Church  found  itself  con- 
fronted  by  this  dilemma,  the  name  most  prominently  associ-  #  390t' 
ated  with  education  is  undoubtedly  that  of  Ausonius,  whose 
long  life  extended  nearly  from  the  commencement  to  the  close 
of  the  fourth  century.  The  education  generally  imparted  in 
his  day  might  well  have  exercised  the  capacity  of  a  great 
reformer.  It  had  become  almost  all  that  education  ought 


12 


INTRODUCTION. 


Character 

of  the 

education 

imparted 

in  the 

imperial 

schools. 


INTROD.  not  to  be — mechanical,  lifeless,  artificial,  and  wanting  in 
everything  that  could  stimulate  the  reasoning  and  reflective 
powers.  In  the  arts'  course,  grammar  and  rhetoric  were  the 
only  subjects  that  received  much  attention  ;  the  former,  how- 
ever, as  defined  by  Suetonius,  had  long  been  employed  to 
denote  much  more  than  a  technical  knowledge  of  the  laws 
of  speech,  and  included  an  extended  and  critical  acquaint- 
ance with  the  principal  Latin  authors.1  Even  in  Ausonius' 
own  time  there  were  '  grammarians  J  who  were  also  philolo- 
gists and  students  of  comparative  jurisprudence.  But,  for 
the  most  part,  the  study,  as  pursued  in  his  day,  was  closely 
associated  with  rhetoric,  and  in  common  with  that  art 
had  acquired  a  singularly  effete  and  meretricious  character. 
Ever  since  the  time  when  Vespasian  founded  the  imperial 
schools  the  training  there  imparted  had  remained  unaltered, 
though  the  less  genuine  elements  more  and  more  preponde- 
rated over  the  more  useful  and  solid.  It  was  the  training  of 
which  the  letters  of  the  younger  Pliny a  reflect  the  influence 
and  also  supply  an  interesting  record,  and  which  is  more 
broadly  discernible  in  the  writings  of  Tertullian,  Arnobius, 
and  Apuleius — the  training  of  the  dialectician  and  rhetori- 
cian, wherein  all  mental  culture  was  made  subservient  to  the 
supposed  requirements  of  the  forensic  orator.  Its  most 
prominent  feature  was  the  committing  to  memory  long 
passages  from  the  poets  and  orators,  a  practice  which,  how- 
ever beneficial  in  moderation,  was  carried  to  an  injurious 
excess.  The  memory  acquired  abnormal  strength,  but  its 
developement  was  out  of  all  just  proportion  to  the  finer 
mental  powers,  and  tended  to  an  almost  entire  extinction  of 
originality  of  thought.  Even  in  their  own  compositions  the 
scholars  generally  fell  back  for  ideas  on  Cicero,  Horace,  or 
Vergil,  and  their  theses  became  one  continuous  process  of 
ingenious  but  mechanical  reproduction.  Sometimes — a  far 
more  rational  exercise — they  rendered  a  passage  from  the 
poets  into  their  own  prose  ;  sometimes  themselves  attempted 
the  art  of  metrical  composition.  But,  in  either  case,  it  was 

1  See  author's  History  of  the  University  of  Cambi'idge,  p.  7,  n.  2. 
3  See  especially  Epist.  i  18 ;  v  3 ;  vn  17 ;  vin  12  and  26. 


ATJSONIUS. 


13 


a  mere  trickery  of  words,  wherein  the  thought  was  entirely  INTROD, 
subordinated  to  the  expression,  while  the  fantastic  diction  ' '      ' 
and  far-fetched  imagery  combined  to  form  a  style  which 
could  only  be  paralleled  by  the  compositions  of  Les  Precieuses 
or  those  of  our  English  Euphuists.     Greet,  though  it  would 
appear  to  have  been  familiar  to  the  scholars  of  the  extreme 
south,  of  Aries  and  Marseilles,  was  almost  unknown  in  the 
more  northern  cities.     Ausonius  himself  appears  to  have 
learned  nothing  more  than  the  rudiments  as  a  boy. 

In  short,  of  the  system  of  public  instruction  that  prevailed 
from  the  first  to  the  fifth  century,  it  may  with  justice  be  said, 
that  by  the  prominence  which  it  assigned  to  the  mere 
ornamenta  of  pagan  culture,  to  the  rejection  of  the  more  in- 
tellectual and  useful  elements,  it  afforded  the  best  justifica- 
tion of  the  veto  which  the  Church  had  already  pronounced 
with  respect  to  the  whole  body  of  pagan  literature. 

Such  were  the  tendencies  of  learning  in  the  age  wherein  Opportu- 
/  Ausonius  was  called  upon  to  act,  and  rarely  does  the  history  ^j^ded 
of  letters  present  to  our  notice  a  more  disappointing  career,  by  his 
His   experience   was  considerable ;   his    opportunities   were  t^  ^~ 
great.     He  had  been  educated  at  Toulouse,  and  had  himself  b7  circum- 
taught  grammar  for  five  years  in  his  native  city  of  Bordeaux,  beneficial 
He  had  subsequently  been  appointed  a  public  instructor  in  refonns- 
rhetoric  ;  and  after  a  lengthened  tenure  of  this  post  had  been 
made  the  tutor  of  the  youthful  Gratiau  at  Treves.     By  his 
imperial  pupil  he  was,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say,  trusted 
and  honoured  as  no  tutor  had  ever  been  before.     He  suc- 
ceeded to  the  quaestorship  ;  he  was  twice  appointed  prefect. 
The  first  time,  as  prefect  of  Italy,  he  had  jurisdiction  over 
not  only  the  great  cities  of  the  peninsula,  but  also  those  of 
Africa — over  Carthage,  then  in  the  zenith  of  her  literary  fame. 
The  second  time,  as  prefect  of  the  Gauls,  he  ruled  not  only 
the  cities  of  his  native  land,  but  also  those  of  Spain  and  of 
Britain.     The  dignity  of  the  consulship  crowned  the  imposing 
array  of  his  distinctions.     If  we  add  to  this  widely  extended 
political  influence  the  respect  commanded  by  his  excellent 
moral  qualities,  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  that  there  was  any 
reasonable  amount  of  reform  which  he  could  not  have  effected 


14 


INTRODUCTION. 


Status  of 
the  public 
instructor. 


INTROD.  in  the  educational  institutions  of  his  time.  Ciroumstances 
again  were  highly  favourable  to  such  reform.  At  110  period 
do  we  find  the  function  of  the  public  teacher  more  respectfully 
regarded  by  the  public  at  large.  That  robust  good  sense 
which,  in  spite  of  many  defects,  distinguished  the  legislation 
of  Valeutinian,  had  reinvigorated  the  whole  system  of  instruc- 
tion throughout  the  empire.  The  instructors  appointed  by 
the  state  received  adequate  and  even  liberal  salaries ;  they 
were  exempted  from  most  of  the  civic  and  municipal  burdens  j1 
they  were  honoured  by  titles  and  dignities.  Their  labours 
were  also  largely  supplemented  by  the  enterprise  of  private 
teachers.  An  edict  of  the  year  864  had  made  the  office  of 
the  teacher  practically  free.2  A  decree  of  Gratian,  promul- 
gated twelve  years  later,  had  required  that  public  instructors 
should  be  appointed  in  all  the  chief  cities  of  Gaul,  and  had 
fixed  the  amount  of  their  salaries,3  but  there  is  satisfactory 
evidence  that  a  large  body  of  teachers,  not  recognised  by 
official  authority,  still  pursued  their  calling  and  found  scope 
for  their  activity.  Ausonius  himself  had  taught  grammar 
for  five  years  in  a  private  capacity,  before,  in  his  thirtieth 
year,  he  received  a  public  appointment  in  his  native  city.4 
The  conditions  therefore  under  which  the  work  of  education 
was  carried  on  in  his  time  closely  approximated  to  those 


Scope 
afforded 
for  private 
enterprise 
in  instruc- 
tion. 


1  '  Sin  absque  Lonore  counectivae  cujuslibet  scholae  regimen  fuerint  nacti, 
absolutes  militia  inter    eoa,  qui  duces    fuerint    provinciaruin,  numerari 
jubemus.'    Cod.  Thcod.  lib.  vt,  tit.  13  (ed.  Haenel),p.  545;  see  also  p.  1321. 

2  '  Vita  pariter  et  facundia  idoneus  vel  novum  instituat  auditorium  vel 
repetat  intermission.'    Ibid.  p.  1322,  dat.  m  Id.  Janu.  364. 

3  '  Per  ouineni  dioecesini  commissam  Magniu'centiae  tuae,  frequentissiinis 
in  civitatibus  quae  pollent  et  eminent  claritudine  praeceptorum  optiini 
quique  evudieiidae  praesideant  juventuti,  rhetores  loquimur  et  grammaticos 
atticae  romanaeque  doctrinae.'     Impp.   Valena,  Gratianus  et    Valentintanus 
Antvnio  Tf.  P.  Galliumm,  Ibid.  p.  1325. 

4  '  Noa  ad  Grammaticen  stadium  convertimus  et  mox 

Rhetorices  etiam  quod  satis  attigimus. 

Nee  fora  non  celebrata  mihi ;  sed  cura  docendi 

Cultior  :  et  nomen  Grammatici  merui. 

Exactisque  dehinc  per  trina  decennia  fastis 
Asserui  doctor  municipalem  operain.' 
Quoted  by  Kaufmann,  von  Raumer,  Hist.  Taschenbuch  (1860),  p.  91. 


AUSONIUS.  15 

which  modern  experience  seems  to  have  finally  accepted  as  re-  INTROD. 
presenting  a  just  mean  between  purely  legislative  and  purely 
spontaneous  action.  The  state,  by  fixing  and  securing  a 
certain  standard,  protected  the  public  from  mere  charlatans 
and  adventurers;  while  the  opportunities  afforded,  on  the 
other  hand,  for  private  enterprise  acted  as  a  check  upon  a  too 
perfunctory  discharge  of  the  official  duties.  The  most  zealous 
reformer  could  scarcely  have  asked  for  more  favourable  con- 
ditions ;  and  had  Ausoiirus,  in  that  plenitude  of  power  and 
confidence  which  he  enjoyed,  been  endowed  with  the  capacity 
to  discern  the  critical  character  of  his  time,  he  might  not 
improbably  have  arrested  the  growing  illiberality  of  the 
Church  and  have  rendered  signal  and  lasting  service  to  the 
cause  of  learning. 

Unfortunately,  he  was  wholly  unequal  to  the  occasion.  Ausonius 
He  either  failed  to  realise  the  opportunity,  or  he  preferred  not 
to  grapple  with  the  difficulty.  Ampere  has  very  happily 
compared  him  and  his  brother  rhetoricians  to  a  set  of 
Chinese  mandarins,  expending  their  energies  on  a  series  of 
literary  futilities,  and  perfectly  content  so  to  do,  while  com- 
fortably conscious  that,  whatever  the  abstract  value  of  their 
productions,  they  were  thus  advancing  themselves  on  the 
path  that  led  to  emolument  and  high  office.  Ausonius  indeed 
owes  his  reputation  with  posterity  mainly  to  his  Mosella,  a 
really  admirable  description  of  the  scenery  of  the  beautiful 
river.  Whether,  as  some  critics  hold,  the  predominance  of  Character 
poetry  of  this  character  is  always  to  be  regarded  as  a  sign  of 
a  degenerating  literary  taste  is  a  question  into  which  we 
cannot  here  enter,  but  it  is  undeniable  that  the  admirers  of 
graceful  Latin  verse  and  the  admirers  of  descriptive  poetry 
alike  still  turn  with  pleasure  to  this  fine  poem.  Admirably 
true  to  nature,  the  accuracy  of  its  details  may  still  be 
recognised  by  the  wanderer  along  the  river's  course.  Cuvier, 
it  is  said,  found  it  of  real  service  in  enabling  him  to  identify 
the  different  species  of  fish  that  formerly  existed  in  those 
waters.  Otherwise  there  is  little  that  Ausomus  has  be- 
queathed to  posterity  which,  regarded  simply  as  poetry, 
might  not  very  well  be  spared.  Feats  of  perverted  ingenuity 


16  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  like  his  Inconnexa,  or  pedantic  stanzas  like  his  Parentalia, 
are  valuable  only  as  curiosities  of  literature  or  for  the 
historical  facts  they  incidentally  supply.  Yet  in  trifles  like 
these  a  virtuous  and  able  man,  of  Christian  faith  l  and  classic 
culture,  frittered  away  his  leisure,  his  powers,  and  his  oppor- 
tunities. We  see  him,  as  his  own  muse  depicts  him, 
dreamily  watching  the  fisher  lad  who  plies  his  craft  on  the 
banks  of  the  river,  inhaling  the  perfume  of  the  surrounding 
rose  gardens,  and  composing  verses  in  which  the  concluding 
syllable  of  one  line  is  echoed  by  the  commencing  syllable  of 
the  next.  Eminently  a  trifler  and  unprescient  of  the  future ; 
while  at  his  feet  the  murmuring  Moselle  steals  on,  by  woods 
and  vineyards  and  castled  heights,  to  join  the  rapid  Rhine, 
beyond  which  Nemesis  is  already  forging  the  bolt  of 
vengeance  and  retribution. 

Sidonius  It  is  not  improbable  that  Ausonius,  who  had  seen  the 

AP?lh"  Franks  retreating  before  Gratian,  may  have  died  still 
b.  430 ;  cherishing  the  fond  illusion  that  the  empire  would  always  be 
able  to  hold  its  own  against  the  barbarians ;  but  in  the  fol- 
lowing century,  the  age  of  Sidonius  Apollinaris,  no  such 
belief  could  any  longer  exist.  *  The  last  of  the  gentleman 
bishops  of  the  Roman  age,'  as  he  has  been  styled,  Sidonius 
witnessed  in  strange  conjunction  the  old  learning,  the  new 
faith,  and  the  pagan  invader  triumphing  in  Gaul.  During 
the  interval  between  his  age  and  that  of  Ausonius  the  diver- 
gence between  the  Roman  and  the  Christian  tradition  of 
learning  becomes  yet  more  strongly  marked.  Claudian,  the 
last  representative  of  the  purely  classical  genius,  who  died  at 
the  commencement  of  the  century,  still  preserved  much  of 
the  antique  spirit,  but  only  by  a  process  of  self -isolation. 
*  His  muse,'  to  quote  the  language  of  Ozanam,  '  chanted  her 
graceful  strains  out  of  hearing  of  the  Ambrosian  chant  at 

1  The  facts  advanced  by  Beugnot  (Hist,  de  la  Destmction  du  Paffanisme, 
ii  76)  to  shew  that  Ausonius  was  of  pagan  belief  have  been  disproved  by 
Ampere  (i  247-50)  ;  see  also  an  article  by  G.  Kaufmann,  Rhetorensckulen 
und  Klogterschulen ;  oder  heidnische  und  christliche  Oultur  in  Qattien  wdhrend 
des  5.  und  6.  Jahrhunderts,  in  von  Rauraer's  HistarUche*  Ttischenbuch, 
1869,  pp.  10,  11.  '  Man  hatto,'  says  Docking  in  his  edition  of  the  Mosetta,  p. 
43,  '  statt  der  Frage,  ob  Ausonius  Christ  gewesen  eei,  eher  die  aufstellen 
sollen :  wot  fur  ein  Christ  Ausonius  gewesen  sei  P  ' 


SIDONIUS  APOLLINAR1S.  17 

Milan.'     Sidonius,  in  turn,  offers  the  last  eminent  example,   INTRO  D. 
for  a  long  period,  of  an  attempted  combination  of  classic  and 
Christian  culture.1 

Sidonius  was  a  native  of  Lyons,  where  he  was  born  about 
the  year  430,  of  noble  parents,  the  representatives  of  a  family 
from  which  the  illustrious  house  of  the  Poliguacs  claim  to 
trace  their  pedigree.     He  was  sou-in-law  of  the  emperor 
Avitus,  to  whom  he  addresses  some  of  his  most  elaborate 
panegyrics  —  compositions    which   afford    excellent   illustra- 
tion of  the  literary  taste  of  the  period.     His  connexions  and 
high  position,  together  with  a   certain    similarity  in   his 
writings,  at  once  suggest  a  comparison  with  Ausonius,  but 
the  difference  in  the  circumstances   of  their  times  is  all-  Circum- 
important.     The  age  in  which  Sidonius  lived  was  one  in  ^n^e°f 
which  the  most  sanguine  and  the  most  discerning  observer  compared 
might  alike  well  have  despaired  of  the  future  of  civilisation.  S  that  of6 


In  his  earlier  years,  it  is  true,  some  rays  of  hope  might  still 
have  seemed  to  linger  over  the  prospect.  The  first  efforts  of 
his  muse  were  called  forth  to  commemorate  the  brief  suc- 
cesses of  Ae'tius,  as  the  *  liberator  of  the  Iioire  ;  '  and  he 
listened,  while  yet  a  youth,  to  the  tidings  of  the  dread  struggle 
at  Chalons.  But  the  Frank  had  already  crossed  the  Ehine, 
to  be  driven  back  no  more  ;  and  a  few  years  later  Sidonius 
witnessed  the  occupation  of  Clermont,  afterwards  the  seat 
of  his  own  episcopate,  by  the  Gothic  invader.  In  his 
maturer  years  he  saw  the  insignia  of  imperial  power  trans- 
ferred from  Italy  to  Nova  Roma,  and  the  verses  are  still 
extant  in  which  he  plaintively  concedes  the  inferiority  of  the 
western  to  the  eastern  capital.  He  died  only  four  years 
before  the  Frankish  advance  under  Clovis  upon  Soissons. 

That  a  writer  whose  lot  Was  cast  in  such  troublous  times  Triviality 
should  have   left  behind  little  save   elaborate  panegyrics,  °ftone 

*         OJ         '   thatper- 

tnfling   extemporaneous    verse,   and    letters    which   rarely  vadeshis 

•writings. 

1  As  regards  Sidouius,  the  uncritical  optimism  of  M.  Chaix  in  bis  St. 
Sidoine  Apollinaire  et  son  stecle  (2  v.  1866),  and  the  hasty  verdict  of  Niebuhr 
(Klwne  Schriften,  p.  325),  are  corrected  by  Kaufinann's  criticisms  :  see 
Inaugural-Dissertation  (Gottingen,  1864)  and  article  in  Schweizer  Museum, 
1865.  See  also  observations  of  J.  W.  Loebell  in  his  Gregor  von  Tours  (ed. 
1869),  p.  y<X). 

0 


13 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTBOD.  bespeak  a  thoughtful  inood  will  scarcely  appear  surprising  to 
those  who  have  noted  the  tendencies  of  literature  at  like 
periods.     In  their  very  triviality  and  frivolity  of  tone  the 
writings  of  Sidonius  attest  the  deep  despondency  that  had 
taken  possession  of  the  age.   From  the  stern  realities  around 
it  is  thus  that  the  litterateur  often  seeks  to  find  relief  in  the 
exercise  of  the  inventive  faculty.     It  i»  thus  that  Boccacio 
represents  his  circle  of  refugees  from  the  plague-smitten  city 
telling  their  wanton  tales.     So  again  the  merciless  warriors, 
G-arcilaso  and  Mendoza,  sought  amusement,  in  the  intervals 
of  massacre  and  pillage,  in  the  composition  of  madrigals  and 
sonnets.     The  Almanac  des  Muses,  of  the  terrible  year  J93,  is 
said  to  be  as  replete  with  joke  and  witticism  as  any  that  went 
before  or  followed.1     We  have,  however,  sufficient  evidence 
that  Sidonius  was  in  no  way  insensible  to  the  real  significance 
of  the  events  of  his  time.     In  a  manner  that  he  could  hardly 
himself  explain  he  would  seem  to  have  been  forlornly  conscious 
that  the  power  and  vitality  of  former  times  had  departed. 
'God,'  he  exclaims,  '  gave  strength  in  other  measure  to  bygone 
generations.'     He  more  than  once  betrays  a  melancholy  pre- 
sentiment that  the  very  extinction  of  learning  is  approaching. 
In  a  letter  to  Arbogast,  a  resident  in  the  Moselle  district,  he 
expresses  his  delight  that  in  the  noble  heart  of  his  corre- 
spondent the  literary  spirit,  '  now  dying    out,'  still  finds  a 
refuge.     As  for  himself,  his  muse,  he   elsewhere  confesses, 
falters  before  the  depressing  influences  of  the  time.     'How,' 
he  asks,  '  can  I  write  six-feet  hexameters  when  surrounded 
by  seven-feet  barbarians  ? ' 

Regarded  as  a  bishop  of  the  Church,  there  is  much,  it 
must  be  admitted,  in  Sidonius  that  harmonises  but  indif- 
ferently with  either  the  primitive  or  the  modern  conception. 
His  own  theory  of  the  office  seems  to  have  been  rather  that 
prevalent    of  a  political  chieftain  than  a  spiritual  guide,  and  his  effusive 
Church  in    admiration  of  the  career  of  Apollonius  of  Tyana  is  certainly 
his  time.     &  singular  and  somewhat  puzzling  feature.     He  was  evi- 
dently of  opinion  that  classic  culture  might,  in  judicious 
hands,  prove  a  valuable  weapon  of  the  Church     We  find 
»  Ampere,  ii  238. 


His  liter- 
ary sym- 
pathies 
opposed 
to  the 
theory 


S1DOW3  APOLLINARIS.  19 

him,  for  example,  writing  to  the  semi-Pelagian  bishop  INTROD. 
Faustus  in  terms  of  almost  fulsome  flattery  respecting  a  "  ' 
treatise  on  the  materiality  of  the  soul,  which  the  bishop 
had  composed  in  answer  to  Claudian  Mamertus.  Sidonius 
assures  him  that  '  he  has  pressed  pagan  science  and  philosophy 
into  the  service  of  the  Church,  and  has  attacked  the  enemies 
of  the  faith  with  their  own  weapons.'  *  It  probably  marks, 
however,  the  prevailing  tendency  to  an  opposite  theory  that 
he  implicitly  admits,  in  another  passage,  that  the  study  of 
pagan  literature,  though  permissible  as  a  recreation  in 
earlier  life,  is  unbecoming  in  the  ecclesiastic  of  mature  years. 
*  Improve  your,  opportunities,  young  men,'  he  exclaims, '  and 
take  your  fill  of  Horace  and  Cicero.  When  age  comes  upon 
you,  you  must  turn  your  thoughts  to  things  eternal,  and 
leave  the  ancient  pagans  alone.  Now,  however,  use  your 
time  ! J 

It   is  evident  indeed  that  the  influences  which  were  to  That 
result  in  a  remodelling  of  the  whole  scheme  of  Christian  edu-  ^d°not 
cation  had  not  as  yet  come  fully  into  operation.     Sidonius  yet  suc- 
him  self  speaks  of  the  pleasure  he  had  derived  from  reading  finding m 
a  play  of  Terence  with  one  of  his  sons,  and  comparing  the  c°mPlete 
Roman  copy  with  the  Greek  original  of  Menander.  In  another  sion  in 
letter  he  reminds  one  of  the  friends  of  his  youth,  how  he,  the  Practice- 
latter,  had  been  wont  of  old  *  to  assume  the  garb  of  the  Greek 
sophist'   when   studying   the  categories    of  Aristotle,   and 
alludes  to  l  the  nets  which  Aristotle  spreads  by  means  of  his 
syllogisms.'     A  third  letter  contains  an  interesting  account 
of  the  library  possessed   by  his  friend  Ferreol  of  Nismes. 
The  volumes  appear  to  have  been  divided  into  three  divisions. 
Of  these  the  first  was  set  apart  for  the  use  of  the  women, 
and  was  exclusively  composed  of  Christian  literature.     The 
second  contained  only  pagan  literature,  and  was  open  only  to 
the  men.     The  third,   including  books  of  both  kinds,  was 
accessible  to  both  sexes.     The  library  was  also  a  rendezvous 
for  literary  and  philosophic  discussions.3     But,  in  fact,  there 
can  be  little  doubt  that  in  the  time  of  Sidonius,  and  even  in 

1  Ohaix,  ii  49-54  ;  Kaufmann  (see  p.  16,  note  1),  p.  33, 
8  Ib.  i  214. 

c  2 


20 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTROD. 


Final  over- 
throw of 
the  Eoman 
or  pagan 
traditions. 


The 

Prankish 
invasion 
and  con- 
quest. 


The 

Frank  and 
the  Gallo- 
Koman 
compared. 


the  succeeding  generation,  the  ancient  culture  still  exercised 
considerable  influence.  The  names  of  Ennodius,  bishop  of 
Pavia,  the  poet  Constantius,  St.  Avitus,  bishop  of  Vienne, 
St.  Hilary  of  Aries,  Felix,  the  rhetorician  of  Clermont,  St. 
Remy  himself,  are  all  those  of  men  educated  in  the  imperial 
schools,  and  who  either  insensibly  reflected,  or  still  regarded 
with  a  favour  they  could  but  imperfectly  disguise,  the  old 
rhetorical  training.  The  decisive  and  final  overthrow  of  these 
traditions  in  Gaul  is  to  be  referred  to  a  twofold  influence — 
an  influence  from  without,  the  Frankish  invasion  and  con- 
quest— and  an  influence  from  within,  the  rise  of  the 
monastic  schools  under  the  rule  put  forth  by  Cassian. 

It  was  far  from  mere  hyperbole  when  one  of  the  pane- 
gyrists of  the  fourth  century  represented  his  fellow  country- 
men as  ever  watching,  with  anxious  eye,  the  waters  of  the 
Rhine — rejoicing  when  the  broad  current  rolled  in  fuller 
volume,  and  trembling  when  it  fell.  For  a  long  time  it  had 
seemed  their  tutelary  guardian  against  Frankish  invasion. 
But  already  in  the  fourth  century  the  Frank  had  permanently 
crossed  the  barrier.  In  398,  Trdves,  the  metropolis  of 
northern  Gaul,  had  been  burnt  to  the  ground ;  and  in  445 
the  conquest  of  Cambrai  by  Clodion,  to  which  the  arms  of 
Aetius  offered  but  a  temporary  check,  extended  the  domain 
of  the  Salian  Franks  to  the  Somme.  At  Chalons,  Franks 
contended  on  either  side;  but  in  the  year  486  came  the 
memorable  inarch  of  Clovis  upon  Soissons,  and  thenceforth 
the  history  of  Gaul  is  for  the  greater,  certainly  for  the  most 
interesting,  part  that  of  another  race. 

In  almost  every  respect  the  characteristics  of  the  con- 
queror stand  in  striking  contrast  to  the  influences  which  had 
previously  shaped  the  destinies  of  Gaul.  He  brought  with 
him  none  of  that  refined  civilisation  and  speculative  philo- 
sophy wherewith  the  Greek  had  stirred  and  humanised  the 
great  cities  of  the  South.  Lawless  indeed  he  was  not;  but 
his  Salic  Code  was  at  best  but  a  rough  and  incoherent  con- 
ception when  compared  with  that  imperial  system  which  ex- 
torted his  admiration  in  the  subjugated  land.  In  all  the 
arts  that  minister  to  social  enjoyment,  in  all  the  higher  cul- 


THE  FRANKS.  21 

ture  that  dignifies  existence  and  mitigates  even  the  loss  of  INTROD. 
liberty,  he  was  incomparably  inferior  to  the  Gallo-Roman 
over  whom  his  conquest  was  so  easy  and  so  rapid.  Yet, 
notwithstanding,  in  these  stalwart  Franks,  issuing  from  their 
forest  lands  and  morass-guarded  homes,  we  recognise  some- 
thing more  than  mere  superiority  of  brutish  force  and  savage 
energy.  Their  love  of  freedom  was  unconquerable.  From 
the  time  when  the  genius  of  Caesar  overthrew  Ariovistus, 
they  had  rarely  ceased  to  trouble  and  disquiet  the  Empire. 
Tacitus  himself  could  not  but  note  that  Arminius  dared  to 
provoke  the  wrath  of  Eome,  not  like  other  kings  and  chief- 
tains as  she  rose  to  power,  but  in  the  fulness  of  her  imperial 
might.  Combined  with  this  ineradicable  love  of  liberty  was 
another  sentiment  which  lent  to  their  long  resistance  addi- 
tional force.  Their  simple  habits  of  life  and  rude  morality 
inspired  them,  with  fierce  contempt  for  the  vices  and  the  whole 
civilisation  of  the  Empire.  The  relations  of  ike  family — that 
primeval  institution  to  which  scientific  investigation  refers 
back  the  origin  of  the  most  hallowed  sentiments  of  the 
human  race — were  cherished  by  them  with  a  fidelity  that 
offered  a  complete  antithesis  to  vices  like  those  that  moved 
the  satire  of  Juvenal  and  Persius.  Womanhood  was  respected 
and  protected ;  veracity  was  held  in  honour ;  even  slavery, 
as  it  existed  in  their  midst,  would  scarcely  seem  to  have  been 
more  grievous  than  the  condition  of  an  English  agricultural 
labourer  at  the  commencement  of  the  present  century.  That 
spirit  of  individuality,  which  Guizot  regards  as  their  chief 
contribution  to  the  common  stock  of  civilized  conceptions, 
becomes  increasingly  apparent  as  they  are  to  be  seen  enter- 
ing upon  a  settled  mode  of  life.  As  the  German  hon- 
oured his  wife  and  loved  his  children,  so  he  found  his  main 
happiness  in  his  home.  Hence  that  more  isolated  manner 
of  living,  which  to  the  Latin  seemed  mere  unsociable  morose- 
ness.  The  crowded  thoroughfares,  the  theatres,  the  games, 
the  enervating  dissipation  amid  which  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Gallic  and  Italian  cities  frittered  away  the  strength  and  dig- 
nity of  manhood,  had  for  the  German  no  charm.  He  built 
no  cities,  but  fixed  his  little  homestead  near  some  perennial 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  stream,  amid  fruitful  pastures,  shut  in  by  woodland,  and  there 
ruled  supreme  over  his  family  and  dependants.  Living  thus 
very  near  to  Nature  and  rendering  a  rude  instinctive  obedi- 
ence to  her  laws,  he  received  from  her  as  his  reward  a  robust 
and  powerful  frame,  and  exulted  in  an  invigorating  sense  of 
freedom  which,  unlettered  and  unrefined  though  he  was, 
enabled  him  to  look  down  with  not  all-unmerited  scorn  on 
the  degenerate  races  whom  he  subdued. 

rpka  The  most  authoritative  and  recent  research  tends  rather 

Prankish     fa  contravene  the  representations  of  those  writers  who,  like 

conquest 

not  alto-  Thierry,  have  depicted  the  Frankish  conquest  as  an  over- 
destruc-  whelming  and  eminently  destructive-  invasion  of  a  barbaric 
tive.  host.  The  arms  of  Clovis  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  sub- 

jugated the  people  south  of  the  Loire ;  and  even  the  north- 
ern provinces  were  reduced  only  by  a  process  of  successive 
occupations.  The  cities  were  many  of  them  burnt;  the 
farms  were  overrun  and  pillaged  ;  but  the  municipal  institu- 
tions of  the  Gallic  race  survived  in  the  one  case,  their  com- 
mercial and  industrial  habits  in  the  other.  Above  all,  Chris- 
tianity, so  far  from  being  extinguished,  as  in  Britain,  achieved 
in  turn  a  conquest  over  the  conqueror.  The  military  victory 
at  Soissons  was  compensated  by  the  spiritual  triumph  sym- 
bolised by  the  baptism  of  Clovis  at  Rheims. 

Salyian,  Among  those  who,  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  century,  had 

.circ.4  5.  ge<j  kefore  the  invader,  when  the  flaming  cities  on  the  Rhine 
and  the  Moselle  told  of  the  advance  of  Clodion,  was  the  cele- 
brated Salvian.  It  is  conjectured  that  he  was  a  native  of 
Cologne  and  received  his  first  training  at  Treves ;  and  his 
writings  undeniably  afford  conclusive  evidence  that  he  had 
early  become  deeply  imbued  with  the  rhetorical  culture  for 
which  the  latter  city  was  famed.  He  found  a  refuge  in  Mar- 
seilles, and  there  formed  an  acquaintance  with  Hilary  of 
Aries,  Eucherius,  bishop  of  Lyons,  and  others  who,  as  we 
have  seen,  still  sustained  the  traditional  learning  of  southern 
Gaul.  It  was  not,  however,  to  resume,  in  a  more  tranquil 
atmosphere,  the  studies  of  his  youtk  that  Salvian  had  fled  to 
Marseilles.  His  ardent  and  imaginative  spirit  was  stirred  to 
its  very  depths  by  the  calamities  that  had  overtaken  the 


SALVIAN.  23 

country  of  his  birth ;  the  aspect  of  the  times  cast  a  gloom   INTROD. 
over  his  whole  nature.     He  believed  that  it  was  but  the  ,      " 

His 

beginning  of  the  end — the  end  of  the  Eoman  polity,  the  despair 
Eoman  civilisation,  the  Eoman  learning ;  and  he  looked  upon 
such  a  sequel  as  nothing  more  than  a  long-merited  retribution 
for  the  wanton  abuse  of  power  and  almost  universal  demorali- 
sation that  characterised  his  age.      Like  Augustine  in  his 
De  Civitate  Dei,  like  Orosius  in  his  History,  the  presbyter 
of  Marseilles,  in  his  turn,  put  forth  the  De  Gubematione  TheDe 
Dei,  to  point  the  moral  of  contemporaneous  history, 
— '  a'nd  justify  the  ways  of  God  to  man.' 

It  was  in  the  same  year  that  the  battle  of  Chalons  was 
fought  that  Salvian  is  said  to  have  commenced  his  treatise, 
and  in  its  turbid  eloquence  and  abrupt  transitions  we  seem 
to  see  the  reflex  of  the  tumult  around.  '  Ye  complain, 
Eomans,'  is  his  cry,  *  because  the  barbarian  crushes  you ;  but 
ye  complain  without  right,  for  ye  merit  all  your  woes.5 
*  These  barbarians,'  he  fiercely  adds,  '  are  as  good  as  you,  and 
even  better.'1  Christianity  itself  seemed  to  him  powerless 
to  reform  a  state  of  society  thus  utterly  corrupt;  it  was 
in  the  barbaric  element  that  his  hopes  of  a  regenerated 
and  reinvigorated  Europe  really  centered.  Among  the 
Latin  races  he  could  discern  nothing  but  corruption,  vice, 
and  crime :  the  hand  of  authority  stretched  out  only  to  < 
oppress— the  riches  of  the  wealthy  squandered  in  sensual  and 
debasing  pleasures — the  needy,  despairing  of  justice  against 
the  employer  and  of  honest  recompense  of  labour,  betaking 
themselves  to  the  recesses  of  the  forest  and  the  mountain  to 
assume  the  career  of  the  brigand.  While  in  the  midst  of 
this  widespread,  this  almost  universal,  lawlessness  and  de- 
moralisation, when  the  Vandal  was  triumphing  in  Africa  and 
the  Frank  was  marshalling  his  forces  for  a  final  descent  upon 
Gaul,  the  denizen  of  the  great  cities,  reckless  of  the  morrow, 
shouted,  and  applauded  in  the  theatre  and  the  circus — inter 
suoruin  supplicia  ridebat.*  '  Ye  ask  for  public  games,  ye  citi- 

1  De  Gub.  Dei,  iv  12  ;  Migne,  liii  84 :  '  TJbi  eublimior  est  praerogativa, 
major  est  culpa,'  says  Salvian. 
5  Ibid,  vi  12 ;  Migne,  liii  123. 


INTRODUCTION. 


JNTROD. 


Change  in 

popular 

feeling 

with 

respect  to 

paganism. 


Kise 
of  the 
schools  of 
Cassian. 


The 

monastic- 
ism  of 

the  West : 


zens  of  Troves  !  After  bloodshed  and  executions,  ye  clamour 
for  shows.  Te  demand  of  your  prince  a  circus  —  and  for 
whom  ?  For  a  pillaged  and  mined  city,  for  a  captive  and 
plundered  people,  decimated  and  in  tears  !  '  * 

To  the  despondency  thus  produced  in  the  minds  of  the 
teachers  of  the  age  by  the  combined  spectacle  of  deepest 
social  corruption  and  the  severest  national  calamity,  must  in 
a  great  degree  be  attributed  the  disposition,  now  generally 
discernible,  to  abandon  the  ancient  system  of  instruction  —  a 
disposition  which  was  still  further  increased  by  the  change 
in  popular  feeling.  As  the  majority  of  the  people  became 
Christian  by  profession,  and  learning  declined  in  estimation, 
their  prejudices,  once  so  strong  against  the  faith  which  they 
subsequently  embraced,  became  directed  against  all  pagan 
institutions  and  habits  of  thought.  Legislation,  which  Con- 
stantine  had  invoked  to  protect  the  Christian  instructor,  was 
needed  in  turn  to  protect  the  professor  of  rhetoric  from 
persecution.  Even  those  who,  like  Sedulius,  Claudius  Marius 
Victor,  and  Prosper,  sought  to  impart  a  Christian  tone  to  the 
traditional  culture  by  applying  it  to  new  themes,  found  that, 
in  the  temper  of  the  times,  this  middle  course  was  impracti- 
cable. 

It  was  precisely  as  this  change  in  popular  sentiment 
began  to  find  expression,  that  the  rise  of  the  schools  of 
Cassian  afforded,  in  connexion  with  the  monastic  foundations, 
an  escape  from  the  previously  existing  dilemma.  A  system 
—  narrow,  illiberal,  and  defective,  it  must  be  confessed,  but 
still  a  system  —  of  education  was  presented  which  rendered  the 
rejection  of  the  old  discipline  less  difficult.  The  choice  no 
longer  lay  between  the  methods  of  paganism  and  the  sacrifice 
of  all  methods  whatever. 

Monasticism,  as  is  well  known,  is  of  oriental  origin  ; 
but  the  spirit  which  it  breathed  and  the  discipline  which  it 
enforced  in  the  East  differ  in  many  important  respects  from 
those  which  characterised  it  in  western  Christendom.  Its 
dominant  conception  was  familiar  to  eastern  communities 
long  before  the  Christian  era,  associated  apparently,  if  not 
identical,  with  that  theory  of  the  contemplative  life  which  in 
1  De  Gub.  Dei,  vi  16  ;  Migne,  liii  126. 


MONASTICISM.  25 

the  oriental  philosophies  was  regarded  as  the  loftiest  ideal  INTROD. 
of  human  existence,  and  whose  influence  is  especially  dis- 
cernible in  the  doctrines  of  the  Neo-Platonists.     In  the  West, 
however,  there  is  no  evidence  that  monasticism  was  ever 
known  save  in  conjunction  with  the  Christian  faith,  while 
in  its  passage  from  tropical  to  temperate  regions  its  discipline 
became  inevitably  modified  by  those  conditions  and  limita- 
tions which  natural  laws  impose  on  all  theories  of  morality 
and  life.     The  inertia  which  to  the  denizen  of  India,  Syria,  antithesis 
and  Egypt  might  seem  only  repose,  was  irksome  and  even  ^  P^esenta 
painful  to  the  inhabitant  of  Gaul.     A  Simeon  Stylites,  passing  eastern 
whole  years  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty  column,  exposed  to  all  i  ieory* 
the  vicissitudes  of  the  seasons,  became  a  physical  impossibility. 
Even  the  abandonment  of  all  active  pursuits  was  felt  by  the 
energetic  races  of  the  North  as  an  almost  intolerable  penance. 
Hence,  while  the  solitary  member  of  the  Therapeutae,  and  the 
cenobite  of  Egypt  under  the  rule  of  Antony  and  Pacomius, 
to  whom  their  own  spiritual  welfare  was  proposed  as  the  sole 
aim  of  existence,  remained,  for  the  most  part,  unsociable,  un- 
productive, and  unbeneficent  members  of  the  human  race, 
the  monk  of  the  West  became  the  cultivator  of  the  soil,  the 
preserver  of  letters,  the  teacher  of  the  people. 

So  completely  however,  in  its  assumption  of  duties  of 
this  character,  did  monasticism  depart  from  its  primary  con- 
ception, that  an  eminent  critic  has  not  hesitated  to  assert 
that  '  the  monk  accomplished  his  mission  by  ignoring  the 
very  principle  of  original  monachism.' l  It  is  the  first  stage 
in  this  important  revolution,  marked  by  the  monastic  rule  of 
Cassian,  that  now  claims  our  attention. 

With  respect  to  the  country  of  which  Cassian,  who  was  Main  facts 

.in  the  life 

born  about  the  middle  of  the  fourth  century,  was  a  native,  Of  Cassian. 
there  exists  considerable  doubt.  His  classic  learning,  the 
tenour  of  a  casual  reference,  and  the  frequency  with  which 
the  name  of  Germanus,  his  friend,  occurs  in  the  history  of 
Gaul  at  this  period,  would  incline  us  to  conclude  that  he  was 
born  in  Marseilles,  the  city  in  which  his  latter  life  was  spent ; 
but  it  is  certain  that  he  was  brought,  very  early  in  life,  under 
1  Iladdan,  Remains,  p.  203. 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  the  influence  of  eastern  monasticism.     His  youthful  imagina- 
tion was  fascinated  by  the  fame  of  that  remote  and  solitary 
region  of  the  Thebais,  where,  in  strange  contrast  to  the  pre- 
vailing tone  of  society  in  the  fourth  century,  the  saintly  and 
contemplative  life  was    lived    with   almost    unprecedented 
austerity.     Along  with  Germanus  he  penetrated  to   those 
burning  solitudes.     The  enthusiasm  of  the  youthful  adven- 
turers was  in  no  way  diminished  by  what  they  there  heard 
and  witnessed;  and,   during   a  residence  of  ten  years   in 
r  Palestine  and  in  Egypt,  they  both  submitted  to  the  ascetic 
discipline  and  ratified  their  choice  by  their  mature  sanction. 
It  was  not  until  the  year  404  that  Cassian  returned  to  mingle 
again  with  men  ;  but  the  reputation  acquired  by  his  previous 
life  at  once  marked  him  out  for  distinguished  service  in  the 
Church,  and  he  was  forthwith  appointed  on  a  mission  from 
Constantinople  to  Eome  which  had  for  its  main  object  the 
suppression  of  the  Arian  heresy.     He  does  not  appear,  after 
this  time,  to  have  returned  to  the  East,  but  took  up  his  resi- 
His  Colla-  dence  at  Marseilles.     There,  in  his  Collationes,  he  committed 
7°*toand    *°  writing  the  record  of  conversations  which,  in  former  years, 
tiones.        he  and  Germanus  had  held  with  eminent  anchorites  and 
fathers  of  the  East.     There  also  he  founded   the  famous 
monastery  of  St.  Victor,  and  assisted  in  that  of  the  yet  more 
celebrated  society   on  the  neighbouring  island  of  Lerins ; 
while  in  the  volume  of  his  Institutiones  he  drew  up  the  rules 
for  their  observance — a  code  which,  down  to  the  time  when  it 
gave  place  to  that  of  St.-  Benedict,  is  to  be  regarded  as  the 
law  of  monasticism  in  Gaul.     Hitherto,  as  he  himself  tells 
us,  that  law  had  been  vague  and  fluctuating ;  every  monastery 
had  a  rule  of  its  own :  to  Cassian  therefore  is  to  be  ascribed 
the  original  character  of  those  institutions  which,  for  good  or 
for  evil,  have  exercised  so  powerful  an  influence  on  the  history 
of  Christianity  in  Europe. 

The  distrust  shewn  by  the  Church  of  his  day  of  pagan 
learning  was  fully  shared,  perhaps  largely  increased,  by 
Cassian,  but  it  is  evident  that  his  sentiments  were  not  dic- 
tated by  the  aversion  of  unlettered  ignorance.  The  disciple 
of  St.  Chrysostom,  he  had  in  his  youth  studied  ardently  the 


CASSIAN.  27 

masterpieces  of  Greek  learning  and  eloquence;  and  in  after  INTROD. 
life  he  found  it  easier  to  deplore  than  to  shake  off  their  early- 
fascination.     In  one  of  his  Collationes  his  friend  Germanus  is  His  teach- 
represented  as  consulting  the  abbat  Nestorus  on  the  best  respect  to 
means  of  expelling  the  recollections  of  profane  authors  from 


the  mind.  He  complains  that  even  in  the  hours  of  devout 
meditation  these  memories  will  often  intrude.  The  poetic 
strains,  the  idle  stories,  the  martial  narratives  of  this  for- 
bidden literature  rise  up  and  distract  his  soul.  They  drag 
him  down  from  heavenly  contemplations  ;  tears  are  un- 
availing to  wash  them  away.1  The  reply  of  the  abbat  is  not 
ill-conceived.  *  Read/  he  says,  '  the  sacred  books  with  the 
same  ardour  that  thou  once  didst  those  of  heathen  writers  — 
and  then  thou  shalt  be  freed  from  the  influence  of  the  latter.' 
An  ominous  reply,  however,  as  Kaufmann  justly  observes,  for 
the  fate  of  letters  in  the  monasteries  of  Gaul. 

The  sanctification  of  the  heart  was  Cassian's  professed 
aim  ;  and  we  find  him  contrasting  the  spiritual  elevation 
and  profitable  thoughts  which  the  discipline  of  the  monas- 
tery under  his  guidance  would  be  likely  to  develope  in  its 
members,  with  the  barren  teaching  of  the  rhetorician.  No- 
where indeed  is  the  influence  of  his  oriental  experiences 
more  clearly  to  be  discerned  than  in  his  theory  of  the  right 
method  of  arriving  at  divine  truth.  He  cast  aside  the  com-  His  theory 
mentators  and  directed  his  monks  to  give  themselves  to  Jn  ??latlon 

to  the 

fasting,  prayer,  and  meditation,  in  order  to  attain  to  an  en-  study 
lightened  understanding  of  Scripture.2    Such  an  understand-  gcriptures. 

1  *  ...  mine  mens  mea  poeticis  vel  infecta  carmiuibus,  illas  fabularum 
nugas  historiasque  bellorum  quibus  a  parvulo  primis  studiorum  iinbuta  est 
rudimentis,  orationia  etiam  tempore  meditetur,  psallentique,  vel  pro  pecca- 
torum  indulgentia  supplicant!  aut  impudens  poematum  memoria  suggeratur, 
aut  quasi  bellantium  heroum  ante  oculos  imago  versetur,  taliumque  me 
phantasmatum  imaginatio  semper  eludens,  ita  mentem  meam  ad  supernos 
intuitus  aspirare  non  patitur,  ut  quotidianis  fletibus  non  poesit  expelli.' 
Cottatio  xiv,  c.  12  (Migne,  xlix  74). 

8  '  Monachum  ad  Scripturarum.  notitiam  pertingere  cupientem  nequaquam 
debere  labores  suos  erga  commentatorum  Iibro8  impendere,  sed  potius 
omnem  mentis  industriam  et  intentionem  cordis  erga  emundationem  vitium 
caraalium  detinere.  Quibus  expulsis  confestim  cordis  oculi,  sublato  velamine 
passionum,  aacramenta  Scripturarum  velut  naturaliter  incipient  contemplari. 


28 


INTROD. 


The  four 

Scriptural 

senses. 


He  enjoins 
active  and 
laborious 
duties  on 
the  monk. 


mTRODUCTION. 

ing,  he  held,  was  not  easy  of  attainment,  but  had  purposely 
been  rendered  difficult  in  order  that  its  very  possession  might 
serve  to  distinguish  the  sanctified  from  unregenerate  natures. 
The  purport  of  the  Scriptural  narrative,  which  he  designated 
as  the  historical  sense,  was,  he  admitted,  obvious  to  all :  it 
was  written  that  he  that  ran  might  read.  But  beyond  or 
within  this  lay  hidden  what  he  termed  a  tropological  sense ; 
then  an  allegorical,  and  finally  an  anagogical,  sense;1  and 
these  different  senses  revealed  themselves  only  to  him  who 
read  with  the  mental  illumination  proceeding  from  a  sancti- 
fied and  purified  heart.  Such  illumination,  such  Scriptural 
knowledge,  were  regarded  by  Cassian  as  the  ultimate  aim  of 
the  monastic  discipline,  and  in  comparison  with  these  all 
other  studies  sank  into  insignificance.  He  does  not,  indeed, 
appear  altogether  to  have  proscribed  knowledge  which  might 
prove  of  service  to  the  learner  in  enabling  him  to  understand 
more  correctly  the  historical  sense;  but  as  this  same  his- 
torical sense  ranked  lowest  in  his  estimation,  so  all  studies 
that  were  subsidiary  to  this  alone  suffered  in  his  view  a  cor- 
responding depreciation.  His  theory  of  the  religious  life 
betrays  its  oriental  origin  in  its  marked  similarity  to  the 
Neo-Platonic  theory  of  the  philosophic  life ;  and  there  is  one 
passage,  wherein  he  adverts  to  the  exaltation  of  the  soul 
when  absorbed  in  prayer,  which  recalls  very  forcibly  the  ec- 
stasis  of  Plotinus. 

But  while  Cassian  undoubtedly  regarded  the  contempla- 
tive life  as  the  highest,  he  seems  to  have  considered,  like 
Aristotle,  that  the  active  life  was  indispensable  as  a  pre- 
liminary to  the  more  advanced  stage.  He  held  with  the 
eastern  proverb,  that  the  industrious  spirit  is  assailed  by  but 
one  devil — the  idle,  by  a  legion.  Hence  laborious  duties  and 
hard,  even  painful,  toil  were  strictly  enjoined  upon  the 
monk.  When  not  occupied  with  religious  services  or  the 
study  of  the  Bible,  he  was  bound  to  devote  himself  to  pre- 

Institwtiones,  v  34.    The  sense,  Cassian  held,  was  often  revealed  in  dreams. 
Cottat.  xrv  10. 

1  ' ...  in  duaa  dividitur  partes,  id  est,  in  historicam  interpretationem  et 
intelligentiam  spiritalem  .  .  .  Spiritalis  autem  scientiae  genera  sunt, 
tropologia,  allegoria,  anagoge.'  Coll.  vni  3. 


CASSIAN.  29 

scribed  menial  tasks.     The  severity  of  the  labour  thus  im-   INTEOD. 
posed,  especially  during  the  novitiate,  is  one  of  the  harshest 
features  of  Cassian's  rule,  and  was  wisely  mitigated  by  St. 
Benedict. 

The  fundamental  conception  of  his  rule  was  in  harmony  The 
with  the  whole  discipline.  Cassian  looked  upon  the  monas- 
tery  as  a  school  where,  by  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  and  the 
instruction  of  their  elders,  youth  were  to  be  educated  to  a  / 
holy  life  ;  and  just  as  the  studies  of  the  schoolboy  are  de- 
signed to  prepare  him  for  the  trials  and  duties  of  manhood, 
so  the  monk,  who  has  renounced  the  present  world  and 
whose  aims  and  hopes  are  centered  in  heaven,  was  to  be 
trained  solely  with  reference  to  a  future  existence.  The 
same  theory  pervades  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict  ;  it  confronts 
us  again,  though  with  a  less  rigorous  interpretation,  in  the 
commentary  on  the  Benedictine  rule,  drawn  up  by  Rabanus 
Maurus  ;  l  it  was  maintained  and  defended  by  the  eminent 
Dominican,  Thomas  Aquinas,  Cassian's  warm  admirer; 
and,  however  its  interpretation  may  have  been  modified  or 
varied,  must  be  regarded  as  the  prevailing  theory  of  the  re- 
ligious education  throughout  the  mediaeval  era. 

The  foregoing  outline  will  serve  in   some   measure  to 
explain  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  its  affinities  to  the  oriental 
spirit,  the  rule  of  Cassian  nevertheless  made  its  way  under 
the  domination  of  the  half-Christianised  Frank.     The  Frank  Points  m 
could  respect  a  high  morality,  and  in  these   communities 


which  now  began  to  rise  throughout  Gaul  he  found  it.      He  Cassian 
despised  the  dreaming  asceticism  of  the  East,  but  in  the  \s 


laborious,  hard-faring,  and  self-denying  monks  of  the  West  ^e 
there  was  an  energy  of  resolve  and  action  which  accorded  character. 
with  his  own  nature.     The  beauties  of  classic  literature  and 
the  refinements  and  subtleties  of  Gallic  culture  lay  beyond 
the  range  of  his  intellectual  appreciation,  but  the  simple 

1  '  Ergo,  sicut  in  schola  pueri  cum  disciplina  quae  illis  necessaria  aunt 
discunt  et  quae  in  future  prosint  capiunt,  ita  et  monachi  in  monasterii 
regularis  schola  et  quae  eos  in  praesenti  honeste  vivere  faciant  et  quae  in 
future  felices  reddant,  discere  sagaciter  et  efficaciter  debent  impiere.' 
Rabaiius  Maurus,  Comment,  in  Regukan  S.  JBenedicti,  Opera,  \i  267. 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

INTEOD.  narrative  and  moral  grandeur  of  the  Gospels  and  the  fervid 

eloquence   of  the  prophets  appealed  forcibly  to  his  heart. 

And  thus,  notwithstanding  the  justice  of  Ozanam's  assertion, 

that   monasticism   is    alien    to  the  genius   of  the    French 

character — an  assertion  that    may  be  made  with  at  least 

equal  truth  in  relation  to  our  English  forefathers — monastic 

foundations    in  Frankland,  as  in  England,  multiplied  and 

Eapid         grew  even  in  the  age  of  invasion   and   conquest.     As   the 

monastic-0    Frankish  supremacy  successively  extended   itself  from  the 

ism  in        Ehine  to  the  Meuse,  from  the  Meuse  to  the  Soinrne,  from 

the  fifth      the  Somme  to  the  Loire,  and  from  the  Loire  to  the  Garonne, 

and  sixth    wuije  £ne  schools  of  the  rhetoricians  died  out,  new  monas- 

centuries. 

teries  rose  throughout  the  land.  Before  the  close  of  the 
fourth  century,  St.  Martin — who  may  be  regarded  as  the 
founder  of  the  monastery  in  Gaul,  as  Cassian  was  the  au- 
thor of  the  monastic  discipline — had  already  instituted  the 
societies  of  Liguge  near  Poitiers  and  that  of  Marmoutiers 
near  Tours.  Then,  with  the  commencement  of  the  fifth  cen- 
tury, there  rose  under  Honoratus,  on  the  island  that  still 
bears  his  name,1  the  monastery  which  preeminently  reflected 
the  best  features  in  Cassian's  influence,  and  from  whence 
proceeded  the  great  majority  of  those  distinguished  men  who, 
known  as  the  Insulani*  still  imparted  lustre  to  the  history  of 
southern  Gaul.  From  these  islands  the  movement  extended 
itself  along  the  valley  of  the  Rhone,  and  from  Marmoutiers 
along  that  of  the  Loire  ;  so  that  when,  in  the  latter  part 
of  the  sixth  century,  St.  Maur  introduced  the  Benedictine 
rule  into  Frankland,  the  monastery  was  already  a  familiar 
institution  in  Burgundy  and  Aquitaine.  Still  charged,  how- 
ever, with  much  of  the  original  oriental  influences,  the 
movement  seems  to  have  faltered  as  it  encountered  the 
rude  northern  blasts;  for  while  240  monastic  communities 
are  enumerated  as  existing,  at  this  period,  in  the  country  south 
of  the  Loire,  only  ten  appear  to  have  been  as  yet  founded  in 
the  wide  tract  that  lies  between  the  Vosges  and  the  Rhine. 

1  The  Isle  de  St.  Honprat,  oiie  of  the  LeVins  group  off  Cannes. 
3  The  Studium  InsuUmwn  was  famous  in  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries j 
see  Bingham,  Eccles.  Antiq.  Til  ii  14. 


THE  SCHOOLS  OF  CASSIAN.  31 

Within  the  walls  of  these  institutions  learning  now  found  INTROD. 
its  chief,  and  for  a  long  period  almost  its  only,  refuge ;  while  ^    ' 
the  municipal  schools  rapidly  disappeared  before  the  Frank-  monastic 
ish  advance.     They  exhibited  a  culture  with  which  the  con-  ^copal 
queror  had  no  sympathy,  and  the  cities  from  which  they  had  schools 
formerly   derived  their   support  were  either  laid  in   ruins,  thePa' 
crushed  beneath  overwhelming  imposts,  or  impoverished  by  mi«ricipal 

t.'  *  m/  •      j         j        j  schools. 

the  cessation  of  commerce.  Trade  revived  and  order  was 
in  some  measure  restored,  but  the  Christian  proscription 
continued  to  oppose  an  effectual  barrier  to  the  reestablish- 
uient  of  pagan  education ;  and  the  rule  of  Cassian  may  be 
said,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  have  seconded  the  destroying  arm 
of  the  Frank.  Yet,  notwithstanding,  whatever  survived  of 
education  and  letters  undoubtedly  owed  its  preservation  to 
the  monasteries  and  the  episcopal  schools.  If,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  Christian  teacher  suffered  once  large  and  fertile 
tracts  in  the  domain  of  letters  to  lie  neglected,  on  the  other, 
he  alone  guarded  and  cultivated  the  narrow  portion  that  still 
blossomed  and  bore  fruit. 

The  monastic  school  now  began  to  appear  as  an  almost  character 
invariable  adjunct  to  the   monastery.      Under   the  severe  °^the. 

education 

limitations  indicated  in  the  rule  of  Cassian,  the  education  here  im- 
imparted  was  of  the  most  elementary  and  narrowest  kind,  Parted- 
designed  as  it  was  solely  for  those  who  were  looking  forward 
to  the  monastic  life.  The  boys  were  taught  to  read  that  I 
they  might  study  the  Bible  and  understand  the  services  ;  to 
write,  in  order  that  they  might  multiply  copies  of  the  sacred 
books  and  of  the  psalter  j  to  understand  music,  so  that  they 
might  give  with  due  effect  the  Ambrosian  chant.  Even 
arithmetic  found  a  place  in  the  course  6f  instruction  mainly 
on  the  plea  that  it  enabled  the  learner  to  understand  the 
Computus — that  is,  to  calculate  the  return  of  Easter  and  of 
the  different  festivals.  In  those  cities  which  represented  the 
centres  of  the  different  dioceses,  a  similar  system  of  instruc- 
tion prevailed  in  the  cathedral  schools ;  but  here  again  it 
was  .strictly  subordinated  to  the  direct  requirements  of  the 
priestly  office,  and  aimed  at  nothing  more  than  to  qualify  the 
pupils  for  the  performance  of  the  services  of  the  Church. 


32 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTROD. 


Compact 
between 
the  Teu- 
tonic 
conqueror 
and  the 
Latin 
clergy. 


The 

traditions 
of  the 
schools  of 
Cassian 
unfavour- 
able to  the 
literary 
spirit. 


In  this  manner  the  great  revolution  was  gradually 
effected.  To  the  municipal  school  there  succeeded  the 
cathedral  school ;  the  grammaticus  of  the  former  was  sup- 
planted by  the  scholasticus  of  the  latter;  the  Christian  preacher 
occupied  the  place  of  the  professor  of  rhetoric ;  the  bishop 
of  the  Church  was  at  once  the  head  of  his  diocese,  the  chief 
magistrate  of  the  city,  the  guardian  of  order,  the  protector 
of  the  defenceless  and  oppressed.  Whatever  still  survived 
of  moral  force,  of  social  influence,  of  capacity  for  organisa- 
tion, when  the  Frank  subjugated  Gaul,  was  to  be  found  shel- 
tering in  the  monastic  cloister,  by  the  episcopal  chair,  or  by 
the  altar  of  the  Church.1  The  shrewdness  of  Clovis  dis- 
cerned the  opportunity;  the  religious  zeal  of  the  Latin 
clergy  hailed  the  prospect  of  a  decisive  triumph  over  their 
pagan  or  Arian  antagonists.  Hence  the  memorable  com- 
pact, pregnant  with  momentous  consequences,  not  only  to 
Frankland  but  to  all  Europe,  first  ratified  when  the  con- 
queror bent  before  the  cross  uplifted  by  St.  Remy  at  Rheims 
— the  compact  between  Teutonic  might  and  the  aims  and 
theories  of  Christian  Rome. 

The  sole  surviving  agencies  of  education  were  thus  the 
school  of  the  monastery  and  the  school  of  the  cathedral,2 
and  of  these  the  former  undoubtedly,  at  this  period,  included 
the  more  extended  range  of  instruction.  The  monastery  was 
still  a  lay  institution  and  unsubject  to  the  control  of  the 
bishop,  and  the  transcription  of  manuscripts  was  a  recog- 
nised occupation  among  its  members.  Yet  even  here  the 
dominant  conception,  as  interpreted  by  the  followers  of 
Cassian,  was  incompatible  with  a  genuine  devotion  to  letters. 
In  the  unreserved  subjection  of  learning  to  exclusively  reli- 
gious ends  and  its  absorption  in  an  ulterior  purpose,  was 
proclaimed  the  divorce  of  the  literary  from  the  religious 
spirit.  The  pursuit  of  knowledge  for  its  own  sake,  the  dis- 

1  'Avant  I'arrivSe  des  Barbares  la  puissance  du  clerge*  restait  seule 
debout  au  milieu  des  ruines  de  1'empire.'  Guizot,  Essais  (13me  edit.),  p.  185. 

2  The  evidence  for  a  third  class,  tcoles  de  campagne,  as  Guizot  styles 
them,  recommended  by  the  Council  of  Vaison  in  629,  is  too  slight  to  admit 
of  their  being  regarded  as  an  appreciable  element  in  the  culture  of  the  period. 
Guizot,  ii  117 ;  Ampere,  ii  260-1. 


THE  SCHOOLS  OF  CASSIAN.  33 

interested  devotion  of  the  intellectual  powers  to  philosophy  IKTBOD. 
and  speculation,  was  no  longer  recognised  as  commendable   %      " 
or  even  permissible.     '  II  n'y  a  plus  de  litterature  desinteres- 
se"e,'  says  Guizot,  '  plus  de  litterature  veritable.' l 

The  whole  character  of  Cassian,  together  with  the  bold 
and  lofty  traditions  of  the  school  which  reflected  his  in- 
fluence at  St.  Honorat,  forbid  us  to  believe  that  he  would 
have  regarded  with  satisfaction  the  decline  that  waited  upon 
theological  learning  in  the  institutions  that  professed  his 
rule.  But,  unhappily  for  his  fame,  his  precepts,  like  those 
of  not  a  few  other  great  reformers,  were  destined  to  receive 
at  the  hands  of  his  successors  a  harsh,  illiberal,  and  too 
literal  interpretation.  Theology,  in  the  monasteries  of  Gaul, 
would  thus  seem  to  have  degenerated  to  a  condition  closely 
resembling  that  of  some  more  modern  experiences.  The 
monk  and  the  priest  learned,  it  is  true,  to  read  their  Bibles, 
but  no  attempt  appears  to  have  been  made  to  hand  down, 
along  with  this  elementary  instruction,  either  a  sound  canon 
of  criticism  or  an  approved  interpretation  of  the  sacred 
writers'  meaning,  or  to  assist  the  student,  in  any  way,  in  the 
intelligent  study  of  that  meaning  for  himself.  He  was  con-  Decline  of 
sequently  at  the  mercy  of  every  pretender  to  especial  spiritual  theological 
discernment,  however  arrogant  or  unlearned.  Cassian  him-  in  these 
self,  we  can  readily  understand,  had  been,  like  other  eminent  schools- 
contemners  of  traditional  culture,  only  half  conscious  how 
much  his  judgement  was  still  guided  and  his  fancy  controlled 
by  the  learning  of  his  youth.  The  observers  of  his  rule,  in 
the  next  century, however, were  liberated  from  such  restraints; 
and  the  scornful  prediction  of  Julian,  that  the  man  who 
exchanged  the  study  of  the  ancients  for  that  of  the  Evangelists 
would  sink  to  the  intellectual  condition  of  the  slave,  was 
almost  verified  by  the  state  of  many  of  the  monasteries  in  the 
period  succeeding  upon  the  Frankish  conquest.  The  undis- 
ciplined fancy,  seizing  upon  that  feature  in  Cassian's  teaching 
which  assigned  to  nearly  every  passage  a  metaphorical  as  well 
as  a  literal  or  historical  sense,  distinguished  itself  by  fantastic 
vagaries  and  unwarrantable  inventions,  to  parallel  which  we 

1  ii  122. 


34 


INTRODUCTION. 


INTROD.  must  turn  to  the  wildest  extravagancies  of  the  most  fanatical 
and  illiterate  sects  of  modern  times.  If,  as  can  hardly  be 
denied,  the  attempts  to  construct  a  formal  system  of  theo- 
logy have  often  proved  a  perilous  task  to  both  teacher  and 
learner,  it  must  also  be  admitted  that  the  assumed  right  of 
individual  interpretation,  on  the  part  of  the  unlettered  and 
ignorant,  has  been  attended  with  yet  more  deplorable  results. 
But,  unfortunately,  while  the  errors  into  which  endeavours 
of  the  former  kind  have  fallen  are  perpetuated  in  the 
memory  by  the  ingenuity  and  ability  with  which  they  have 
been  associated,  the  warning  afforded  by  the  irreverent  ex- 
position of  the  illiterate  enthusiast  is  forgotten  in  the  ob- 
livion to  which  his  memory  has  been  consigned. 

It  would  be  difficult  and  of  but  little  interest  to  trace  out 
the  gradual  extinction  of  letters  during  the  period  when 
Austrasia  and  Neustria,  the  Frank  and  the  Gallo-Roman, 
Gregory      contended  for  the  superiority.     Within  less  than  a  century 
1.  bit™      after  the  death  of  Sidonius  Apollinaris,  Gregory  of  Tours 
d.  595.        compiled  his   Historic,  Ecclesiastica  Francorum.      The   in- 
vidious comparison  between  the  two  writers,  instituted  by 
Gibbon,  is  familiar  to  most  scholars.     '  Each  of  them,'  he 
says,  'was  a  native  of  Auvergne,  a  senator,  and  a  bishop. 
The  difference  of  their  style  and  sentiments  may,  therefore, 
express  the  decay  of  Ganl,  and  clearly  ascertain  how  much, 
in 'so  short  a  space,  the  human  mind  had  lost  of  its  energy 
and  refinement.'1 

That  Gregory's  early  training  probably  included  whatever 
of  classic  education  still  lingered  in  southern  Gaul  will 
scarcely  be  called  in  question.  His  writings  sufficiently 
prove  that  he  had  acquired  some  familiarity  with  Latin 
authors:  his  Vergilian  quotations  are  frequent;  and,  ad- 
mitting what  is  perhaps  somewhat  questionable  proof,  he 
would  appear,  by  like  evidence,  to  have  been  acquainted  with 
Sallust,  Pliny,  and  Aulus  Gellius.  But  the  fatal  influences 
of  his  time  are  clearly  reflected  in  his  own  style  of  Latinity 

1  iv  380.  So  Ampere :  '  entre  ces  deux  hommes,  que  se"pare  un  espaco 
dc  quarante  annexes,  il  y  a  un  abirae.  On  pourrait  dire  qu'ils  appartienneiit 
a  deux  ages  du  monde.'  Hist.  Litt.  ii  267. 


GREGORY  OF  TOURS. 


35 


—  in  his  candid  avowal  that  he  is  not  solicitous  to  avoid  a  INTROD. 
solecism—  in   his  deferential    appeal  to  the   stndent  of  the      """" 
compend  of  Martianus  Capella,  as  one  who  might  be  re- 
garded as  learned  in  the  learning  of  the  age  —  and  in  his 
melancholy  statement  of  the  motives  which  have  led  him  to 
compile  his  History.     *  Inasmuch  as,'  says  the  poor  bishop, 
'  the  cultivation  of  letters  is  disappearing  or  rather  perishing  His 
in  the  cities  of  Gaul,  while  good  deeds  and  evil  are  com-  Jj"£jony 
mitted  with  equal  impunity,  and  the  ferocity  of  the  bar-  decay  of 
barians  and  the  passion  of  kings  rage  alike  unchecked,  so    ** 
that  not  a  single  grammarian  skilled  in  narration  can  be 
found  to  describe  the  general  course  of  events,  whether  in 
prose  or  in  verse,  the  greater  number  lament  over  this  state  of 
affairs,  saying,  "  Alas  for  our  age  !  for  the  study  of  letters 
has  perished  from  our  midst,  and  the  man  is  no  longer  to  be 
found  who  can  commit  to  writing  the  events  of  the  time  !  " 
—  these  and  like  complaints,  repeated  day  from  day,  have  de- 
termined me  to  hand  down  to  the  future  the  record  of  the 
past  ;  and,  although  of  unlettered  tongue,  I  have  nevertheless 
been  unable  to  remain  silent  respecting  either  the  deeds  of 
the  wicked  or  the  life  of  the  good.     That  which  has  more 
especially  impelled  me  to  do  this  is,  that  I  have  often  heard 
it  said  that  few  people  understand  a  rhetorician  who  uses 
philosophical  language,  but  nearly  all  understand  one  speak- 
ing in  the  vulgar  fashion.'  * 

With  this  dismal  strain  Gregory  ushers  in  his  work  ;  and,  His  repre- 
notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  some  writers2  to  prove  that 


1  Migne,  Ixxi  161.  There  can  be  no  better  comment  on  this  passage  than 
the  words  of  Loebell:  —  'In   der  That  hatte  Gregor  Grund  genug,  die   evidence 
Nachsicht  des  Lesers  fur  seine  Schreibart  in  Anspruch  zu  nehmen.     Wie  afforded 
sehr  sie  deren  bedarf,  bezeugt.jede  Seite,  ja  fast  jede  Zeile  seiner  Werke.   by  his 
Sie  ennangelt  nicht  nur  jeder  Freiheit  und  jeder  Feinheit,  aondem  ist  Toh, 
holperig  \md  unbeholfen,  bald  matt,  breit  und  zerflossen,  bald  durch  das 
Ungeschick,  Worte  und  Satze  zusammenzufugen,  so  dunkel,  dass  man  den 
Sinn  mehr  errathen  ala  rait  Sicherheit  bestimmen  kann.'      Gregor  von  Tour  9  t 
p.  307.    The  use  of  the  accusative  for  the  ablative  absolute  is  perhaps  the 
most  glaring  of  Gregory's  barbarisms. 

*  Among  these  Ozanain  is  one  of  the  most  prominent.  He  contends, 
notwithstanding  Gregory's  declarations,  that  there  is  good  reason  for  sup- 
posing that  the  condition  of  letters  was  far  less  discouraging  than  the  bishop 
of  Tours  would  fain  represent  it  to  be.  He  asks  (p.  404),  '  Comment  lea 

D   2 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  the  date  of  letters  was  really  far  more  favourable  than  he 
would  have  us  believe,  and  that  his  lament  is  little  more  than 
the  cry  invariably  raised  by  the  scholar  in  times  of  great 
political  disquiet,  the  candid  student  can  hardly  fail  to  per- 
ceive that  the  internal  evidence  afforded  in  the  pages  of  the 
History  is  strongly  corroborative  of  the  writer's  own  state- 
ment, and  that  the  almost  unanimous  conclusion  of  the 
ablest  investigators  of  the  period  does  not  admit  of  being  set 
aside.  It  is  evident  that,  apart  from  other  causes,  the  pro- 
scription of  pagan  literature  had  done  nothing  towards 
bringing  about  greater  mental  activity  in  the  field  of  Chris- 
tian studies ;  the  literary  spirit,  though  confined  in  narrower 
channel  rolled  only  in  yet  feebler  current.  Of  this  fact  the 
fraRk  avowal  of  Fortunatus,  the  most  conspicuous  writer  of 

natus.  the  doggrel  that  passed  for  poetry  at  this  time,  is  a  striking 
illustration.  He  had  received  his  education  at  Ravenna,  and 
the  latter  part  of  his  life  was  spent  in  the  service  of  the 
Church  at  Poitiers.  But  he  admits  that  not  only  were '  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Chrysippus  and  Pitta cus  (a  singular  jumble  !)  un- 
known to  him,  but  that  he  had  not  even  read  Hilary,  Gregory, 
Ambrose,  or  Augustine.' l 

The  Moro-        In  the   midst   of  this  general  decline  of  learning,  the 

d' nasty      Merovingian  kings,  with  the  wantonness  of  a  half-barbaric 

e"coles  restaure'es  par  Gratien,  Celebris  par  Ausone  et  Sidoine  Apollinaire, 
toutes  debout  au  ciuquieme  siecle,  apres  le  premier  choc  de  1'invasion, 
seraieiit-elles  tombdes  au  sixieme,  sans  laisser  un  historien  de  leur  chute  ?  ' 
The  fact  probably  only  serves  to  fahow  how  little  of  the  historical  spirit  or 
of  literary  ability  still  survived.  The  instances  adduced  by  Ozanam  to 
prove  the  contrary  are  singularly  unfortunate.  lie  cites  that  of  Desideriua 
or  Didier  of  Cahors,  vrho  was  not  born  until  within  a  few  years  of  Gregory's 
death.  It  is  probable  that  Desiderius  was  a  man  of  considerable  culture  ; 
but  it  appears  that  his  endeavours  to/instruct  his  pupils  in  'grammar '  were 
of  so  exceptional  a  character  as  1o  draw  upon  him  the  special  rebuke  of 
Grejroi-y  the  Great  (see  infra,  p.  77).  The  next  instance  cited  by  Oaanam 
i.s  thai  of  Paul  of  Verdun,  who  died  fifty-two  years  after  Gregory  of  Tours  ; 
and  the  third  instance  (pp.  405-7)  is  tbat  of  St  Bonitus,  who  died  at  the 
beginning  of  the  eighth  century]  Facts  whicu  have  to  "be  sought  for  at 
puc.li  wide  intervals  as  these  implicitly  refute  tie  argument  they  are  adduced 
to  support  The  '  soeie'te'  polic  et  lettree  du  sixieme  siecle,'  of  which  Ozanam 
speaks,  and  of  which  he  considers  the  poet  Fortunatus  to  have  been  *  le  repre- 
sentaut  le  plus  fidele,'  had  little  existence  save  in  his  own  imagination. 
1  See  letter  to  Bishop  Martin,  Migne,  Ixxxviii  180. 


THE  PRANKISH  CHURCH.  37 

despotism,  assumed,  on  tlie  one  hand,  to  dictate  the  terms  of  INTROD. 
theological  belief;  on  the  other,  the  rules  of  orthography. 
Chilperic  I  drew  up  for  the  Church's  use  a  new  Confession  of 
Faith,  in  which  he  suppressed  the  distinctions  of  the  Three 
Persons  of  the  Trinity  ;l  while,  like  another  Claudius,  he 
enjoined  the  use  of  four  additional  letters  of  the  alphabet, 
and  is  even  said  to  have  commanded  that  all  manuscripts 
which  did  not  embody  this  startling  innovation  should  be 
destroyed.  He  not  only  deemed  himself,  like  Sigismund, 
super  grammaticam,  but  even  super  metricam,  and  composed 
verses  which  in  their  reckless  defiance  of  quantities,  appear 
to  have  caused  Gregory  himself,  certainly  not  a  fastidious 
critic,  to  stare  and  gasp.2 

And  while,  under  the  Merovingian  dynasty,  learning  almost  State  of 
ceased  to  exist,  the  circumstances  of  the  time  were  such  that  it  un°jer  ^?3 
may  fairly  be  doubted  whether  it  would  ever  have  revived  dynasty. 
without  some  potent  external  impulse.     It  had  found  refuge  v 

in  the  Church  and  in  the  monastery,  and  the  condition  of 
these,  at  the  accession  of  Charles  Martel,  was  one  of  utter 
demoralisation.  The  state  of  the  former  in  one  respect 
strongly  resembled  that  of  the  Gallican  Church  at  a  later  ,^ 
period,  in  the  complete  prostration  of  the  clergy  beneath  the 
power  of  the  episcopate,  an  episcopate  in  the  eighth  century 
utterly  demoralised  -and  corrupt.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that 
at  the  time  when  the  influence  of  the  Church  for  good  was 
at  its  lowest,  her  material  prosperity  was  at  its  highest.  It 
is  supposed  that  at  the  end  of  the  seventh  century  at  least 
one  third  of  the  Gallic  territory  represented  Church  property.3 
The  monarch,  with  whom  the  decision  in  elections  to 
bishoprics  really  rested,  supported  the  creatures  of  his  choice. 
'  Let  him,*  said  Childebert, '  who  refuses  to  listen  to  his  bishop 
and  has  been  excommunicated,  endure  the  eternal  eondemna- 


1  Gregory,  Hist.  Ecclcs.  Franc,  lib.  V,  c.  46 ;  Migne,  Ixxi  360-1. 
•      2  '  Scripsit  alios  libros  idem  rex  versibus,  quasi  Sedulius  secutus ;  sed 
vereiculi  illi  nulli  penitus  metricae  eonvemunt  rationi.'     Ibid. 

3  I  give  this  fact  on  the  authority  of  Perry,  The  Franks,  from  their  first 
Appearance  in  History  to  the  Death  of  King  Pepin  (Longmans,  1857),  p.  469. 
He  refers  to  Montesquieu,  L'Esprit  des  Lois,  xxxi  10. 


38 


INTROD. 


Demoral- 
isation 
of  the 
episcopal 
order. 


State 
of  the 
monastic 
discipline. 


The  servile 
element  in 
the  monas- 
teries. 


INTRODUCTION. 

tion  of  God,  and  let  him  be  excluded  for  ever  from  our  palace.'1 
Sometimes  indeed  when  royalty  refused  to  defer  to  the  inter- 
ests of  the  order,  it  found  the  combined  power  of  the  episco- 
pate superior  to  its  own.  *  Our  dignity/  said  Chilperic,  on 
one  occasion,  '  our  dignity  has  departed  and  is  transferred  to 
them/  I?ven  to  the  Frankish  nobility  a  bishopric  seemed  a 
valuable  prize,  dissociated  as  it  was  from  spiritual  duties  and 
accompanied  by  envied  immunities.2  Ever  since  the  time  of 
Gregory  the  Great,  the  Gallic  bishops  had  exercised  their 
authority  unrestrained  by  the  pope  of  Rome.  Freed  accord- 
ingly from  all  sense  of  responsibility,  and  in  awe  neither  of 
councils  nor  their  metropolitan,  they  ^discarded  even  the 
visible  signs  of  their  profession.  They  took  rank  among  tli3 
wealthier  landed  proprietors,  imitating  their  habits  of  life 
and  adopting  their  interests.  They  were  sportsmen  and 
warriors,  and  sometimes  were  to  be  seen  taking  part  in  expe- 
ditions of  violence  and  brigandage.  The  actual  relapse  of 
some  of  the  remoter  dioceses  into  paganism  is  explicitly 
referred  by  the  monk  Jonas  to  the  fatal  influence  of  the 
episcopal  example. 

The  condition  of  the  monasteries  was  not  less  deplorable. 
It  bad  been  the  injunction  of  Cassian  that  they  should  shut 
their  doors  to  the  bishop,  and  preserve,  as  far  as  possible,  a 
spirit  of  isolation  from  ecclesiastical  strife  and  turmoil. 
The  hope  of  sharing  in  the  Church's  wealth  and  influence 
hid  been,  however,  too  strong  a  temptation,  and  the  monk 
had  gradually  ceded  many  of  his  peculiar  privileges  and 
rights  only  to  find  himself  under  the  thraldom  of  the 
episcopal  jurisdiction.  He  appealed  to  the  royal  or  to  the 
papal  authority  for  protection,  and  purchased  it  at  the  cost 
of  the  few  liberties  that 'yet  remained  to  him. 

Another  cause  largely  contributed,  at  this  period,  to  the 
decline  of  the  monasteries  in  the  general  estimation.  They 
were  recruited,  to  a  great  extent,  from  the  servile  class ;  and 

1  'Qui  episcopum  suum    noluerit  audire    et    excommunicatus    fuerit 
perennem  condemnationem  apud  Deum  sustiiieat,  et  insuper  de  palatio 
nostro  sit  omnino  extraneus/    Baluze,  i  17. 

2  Guizot,  Essais,  p,  101. 


THE  MONASTERIES.  39 

Gregory  the  Great  himself  had  held  that  slaves  might,  under  INTROD. 
certain  circumstances,  be  beaten  or  tortured.1  The  relations 
of  the  abbat  to  his  monks  accordingly  closely  resembled  those 
of  a  master  to  his  slaves ;  and  just  as,  in  reference  to  the 
latter,  the  legislator  had  found  it  necessary  to  enact  that 
mutilation  and  punishment  resulting  in  death  were  illegal,2 
so,  even  as  late  as  the  Council  of  Frankfort  of  794,  an  article 
reminds  us  that  abbats  required  in  like  manner  to  be  re- 
strained from  blinding  or  mutilating  their  monks.3 

Barbarities  of  this  revolting  character,  it  is  true,  are  far 
too  common  a  feature  throughout  the  mediaeval  era,  but  in 
the  history  of  the  Merovingian  dynasty  they  present  them- 
selves with  sickening  frequency.  The  accession  of  Charles  Charles 
Martel  to  power  brought  about  the  overthrow  of  the  episcopal  Martel- 
tyranny,  but  his  so-called  work  of  reformation  more  closely 
resembled  one  of  wholesale  confiscation,  and  he  looked  upon 
the  resources  of  the  Church  chiefly  as  sinews  of  war,  or  as 
means  for  enabling  him  to  reward  his  soldiery  for  past 
achievements.  The  inroads  of  the  Saracen  completed  the 
work  of  destruction  in  the  south ;  and  at  Autun,  Narbonne, 
and  Bordeaux  learning  was  extinguished  in  the  very  asylum 
to  which  it  had  fled  for  refuge. 

Such  were  the  circumstances  under  which  the  first  of  the  Prospects 
Carolingian  monarchs  assumed  the  supreme  authority.     That  at  the 
rich,  fertile  and  populous  land,  which  had  so  long  sustained  the  ^ssion 
traditions  of  Roman  culture  even  when  these  had  well-nigh  le-Bref. 
vanished  from  Italy  itself,  was  in  turn  overshadowed  by  the 
darkness  of  barbaric  conquest*     The  voice  of  the  teacher  was 
silent  in  the  city  and  in  the  monastery.     The  treasures  of 
the  ancient  literature  lay  mouldering  in  neglect,  while  no  in- 
considerable portion  was  irrevocably  disappearing  from  the 
possession  of  man. 


1  That  is,  when  convicted  of  practising  magical  rites.  JEpist.  Ixv ; 
Migne,  Lsxvii  1002. 

8  '  Si  inagister  in  discipline  vulneraverit  servum  vel  occiderit  .  .  .  qui 
eluscaverit  discipulum  in  disciplina.'  Ulpian,  Digest,  ix  ii,  5. 

3  '  Nulla  ex  culpa  monachos  abbati  caecare  ant  mutilare  licet.'  Baluze, 
I2C1. 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

INTROD.  In  other  lands  indeed  the  signs .  were  not  wanting  of  a 
great  and  in  some  instances  a  permanent  revival.  At  York 
and  at  Canterbury,  at  Lindisfarne  and  at  Yarrow,  and  in  the 
monasteries  secluded  from  continental  strife  within  the  pre- 
cincts of  Holy  Isle,  there  were  to  be  found  enthusiastic 
scholars  and  noble*  libraries.  In  Italy,  on  Monte  Cassino, 
learning  had  set  her  lamp,  there  long  to  burn  with  surpassing 
and  enduring  splendour ;  from  amid  the  calm  solitudes  of 
Squiliace  in  the  south  and  the  plains  of  Lombardy  in  the 
north,  there  shot  a  faint  but  hopeful  'ray ;  while  from 
beneath  the  mountains  of  the  Vosges  a  gleam  pierced  even 
the  darkness  in  Frankland,  where  all  was  night  as.  yet. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  41 


CHAPTER  I. 

CHARLES   THE   GEEAT   AND   ALCUIN ;   OB,  THE  SCHOOL 
OP   THE   PALACE. 

TOWARDS  the  commencement  of  the  seventh  century,  there     CHAP. 

had  appeared  at  the  court  of  the  haughty  Brunehaut  an  , *' , 

Irish  monk,  the  famous  St.  Columban.     He  represented  a  St.  Col- 
different  school  of  theology  from  that  of  the  Church  -with  jn^4a3n! 
which  the  Frank  had  made  his  compact — a  school  which  <*•  615. 
will  shortly  claim  considerable  attention  at  our  hands.     For 
the  present,  however,  it  will  suffice  to  note  the  influence  of 
Columbaii  as  a  monastic  reformer  in  Frankland. 

His  appearance  in  Austrasia  appears  to  have  been  nearly  Character 
coincident  with  that  of  St.  Maur  in  Neustria,  but  his  efforts  monastic 
were  directed  to  the  establishment  of  a  rule  differing  widely  rule. 
from  that  of  St.  Benedict,  and  approaching  more  closely  even 
than  that  of  Cassian  to  the  discipline  of  the  ascetics  of  the 
Thebais.     The  ardour  of  his  genius  obtained  for  this  rule  a 
temporary  acceptance ;  but,  at  the  period  which  we  are  now 
approaching,  the  austerity  of  the  life  which  it  enforced  had 
inevitably  led  to  its  abandonment  for  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict, 
which  harmonised  far  better  with  the  climate  *.nd  tempera- 
ments of  northern  Gaul.1 

In  other  respects  the  influence  of  Columban  in  Frankland  St.  Boni- 
was  superseded  by  that  of  a  yet  more  eminent  reformer — the  j;a°gg0 . 
great  St.  Boniface,  the  devoted  assertor  of  the  Romish  supre-  4. 756. 
inacy,  the  heroic  apostle  of  the  faith  amid  the  strongholds  of 
paganism,  the  energetic  advocate  of  the  Benedictine  rule, 
the  reformer  whose  labours  paved  the  way  for  Al^uin  when, 

1  See  on  this  subject  a  note  '  siu  la  Regie  suivie  dans  les  Monasteres 
Aufltrasiens,'  in  Digot's  Mistoire  du  Royaume  (FAmtrasie,  iv,  note  41. 


42 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


Founda- 
tion of 
abbey  of 
Monte 
Cassino, 
A.D.  528. 


Introduc- 
tion of  the 
Benedic- 
tine rule. 


Its  leading 
character- 
istics. 


Provision 
made  for 
regular 
study 
among  the 
monks. 


forty  years  later,  that  famous  teacher  accepted  the  invitation 
of  Charles  the  Great  to  Aachen. 

During  the  period  that  separates  the  age  of  Cassian  from 
that  of  St.  Boniface,  monasticism  and  the  cause  of  letters 
had  found  a  wiser  legislator  in  Italy.  Within  a  few  months 
of  the  day  when  Justinian  closed  the  schools  of  Athens,  and 
Simplicius  and  Isidore  wandered  sadly  forth  into  exile  and 
ohscurity,  the  sound  of  the  axe  and  the  hammer  was  heard 
on  Monte  Cassino.  On  the  summit  which  overlooks  the 
plains  through  which  the  Liris  steals  slowly  in  long  reaches 
to  the  sea,  arose  the  walls  from  whence  proceeded  the 
utterances  of  the  *  Sinai  of  the  Middle  Ages ; ' — eloquent 
mount,  speaking  from  beyond  the  silent  river  with  voices 
still  audible  across  the  centuries ! 

The  Benedictine  Rule — *  first  and  foremost  in  discretion 
and  clear  in  style,'  as  St.  Gregory  pronounced  it — was  at  once 
more  comprehensive  and  more  definite  than  any  by  which  it 
had  been  preceded.  It  was  in  no  way  designed  to  supplant 
the  rule  of  Cassian,  whose  Collationes  were  especially  indicated 
by  Benedict  as  a  text-book  l  for  study  and  second  only  to  the 
Scriptures  in  value  and  edification,  but  it  laid  down  precise 
instructions  on  many  points  that  had  before  been  left  dis- 
cretionary, and  invested  the  whole  monastic  life  with  an  air 
of  greater  solemnity  and  importance.  It  prescribed,  for  the 
first  time,  a  year's  novitiate,  after  which,  if  the  purpose  of  the 
novice  remained  unchanged,  his  vow  consigned  him  to  a  step 
which  was  irrevocable.  The  authority  of  the  abbat  was  ren- 
dered more  absolute,  and  the  whole  principle  of ' obedience' 
more  binding  and  explicit.  The  duties  of  the  day  were 
marked  out  with  greater  precision,  and  the  regulations  as  to 
diet  wisely  rendered  less  ascetic»  In  no  respect,  however,  was 
the  difference  from  preceding  rules  so  marked  as  in  the  pro- 
vision made  for  regular  daily  study.  The  main  energies  of 
the  monk  were  still  to  be  given  to  active  labour,  but  the  grey 
dawn  of  the  winter  day  and  the  meridian  heat  of  summer 
were  allotted  to  reading ;  and,  in  the  season  of  Lent,  the  time 
assigned  for  this  purpose  was  extended.  St.  Benedict  names 
no  authors,  only  the  books  of  the  Old  and  the  New  Testaments, 

1  Migne,  xlix  45-6. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  43 

together  with  such  expositions  thereon  as  'the  most  illustrious 
doctors  of  the  orthodox  faith  and  the  Catholic  fathers  had 
compiled/  1 

The  privilege  and  duty  of  study  being  thus  established, 
the  range  within  which  it  might  be  carried  on,  narrow  as  it 
seemed,  admitted  of  a  wide  interpretation.  Who  could  say 
what  great  doctors  and  fathers  might  yet  arise?  Who 
could  say  what  heresies  and  erroneous  doctrines  they  might 
not  be  called  upon  to  refute?  Such  refutations  almost 
necessarily  involved  the  perusal  of  the  refuted  treatises,  and 
thus  the  doors  were  thrown  open  to  much  of  pagan  and 
heterodox  literature.  At  the  time,  indeed,  that  St.  Benedict 
drew  up  his  rule — a  time  when  the  last  upholders  of  pagan 
philosophy  were  about  to  be  expelled  from  Athens,  and  the 
last  upholder  of  Roman  learning  had  recently  passed 
forth  to  a  fearful  death  from  the  tower  of  Pavia — there 
appeared  small  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  a  revived 
activity  of  speculation;  but  as  monasticism  secured  the 
leisure  and  retirement  essential  to  the  religious  life,  so  the 
Benedictine  rule  enforced  the  lawfulness  and  dignity  of 
study,  and  letters,  sheltered  alike  from  the  indifference  of 
the  laity  and  the  contempt  of  the  Church,  lived  on  as  in 
some  charmed  enclosure. 

Such  was  the  rule  that  Boniface,  early  in  the  eighth  Boniface  in 
century,  came  to  restore  in  Frankland.  He  came  full  of  the 
spirit  which  the  great  revival  under  Theodorus  had  awakened 
in  England — the  spirit  of  loyalty  to  Rome  and  reverence 
for  the  Benedictine  rule.2  His  sorrow  and  his  surprise  at 
the  state  of  the  Frankish  monasteries  and  the  morals  of  the 
clergy  surpassed  his  powers  of  expression.  In  an  oft-quoted 
letter  to  pope  Zacharias,  written  in  742,  on  the  eve  of  the 
Council  of  Saltz,  he  describes  the  condition  of  affairs  in 
unflinching  language.  For  eighty  years  no  council  of  the 
Church  had  met  in  Frankland;  there  was  no  archbishop; 

1  *  Et  expositiones  earum  quae  a  nominatissimis  doctoribus  orthodoxy's  et 
catholicis  patribus  factae  sunt.'    Reg.  S.  Senedicti,  c.  8 ;  ed.  Waitzmann, 
1843,  p.  32. 

2  Of  the  foundation  at  Fulda  he  writes  to  Pope  Zacharias, '  inonachos 
constituimus  sub  regula  sancti  Patris  Benedict!  viventes.'    Migne,  Ixxxix 
778 ;  see  also  808 ;  and  Life  by  Willibald,  c.  8,  ib.  p.  607 ;  Pertz,  Lrgg.  1 17. 


44  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP,     no  one  enforced  or  re-enacted  the  canonical  laws.     Deacons 

, ; .  and  priests  alike  led  lives  of  open  immorality ;  the  bishops, 

though  abstaining  from  such  open  scandal,  were  '  drunkards, 
injurious,  brawlers,  bearing  arms  in  regular  battle,  and 
shedding  with  their  own  hands  the  blood  of  their  fellow- 
inen,  heathen  or  Christian,  no  matter.'  To  use  the  language 
of  the  summons  convening  the  council,  '  the  law  of  God  and 
the  religion  of  the  Church  had  gone  to  ruin  under  former 
princes.' l 

Measures  However  little  reason  we  may  see  for  attributing  any  but 

reform.  1  Purety  political  motives  to  Charles  Martel,  it  is  certain  that 
his  support,  and  that  of  his  two  sons,  largely  conduced  to 
Boniface's  success.  The  reformer  himself  candidly  admits 
the  fact.  The  Councils  of  742  and  743  restored  in  some 
measure  the  discipline  of  the  Church.  The  bishops  were 
reduced  to  obedience ;  and  the  *  Act  of  Secularisation/  though 
seemingly  an  encroachment  on  ecclesiastical  privileges,  was 
in  reality  of  signal  service  in  the  manner  in  which  it  effected 
the  expulsion  of  the  more  unworthy  members  of  the  episcopal 
order.  Upon  the  whole  order  indeed  a  heavy  penalty  was 
imposed.  Deeply  scandalised  at  the  spirit  of  lawless  license 
which  they  exhibited,  Boniface  seems  to  have  concluded  that 
no  expedient  was  to  be  left  untried  to  reduce  them  to  a 
position  of  immediate  and  strict  accountability  to  Rome.2 
Hence,  in  the  first  German  Christian  Council  ever  held,  and 
summoned  through  his  instrumentality,  one  of  the  earliest 
measures  was  formally  to  recognise  the  complete  subjection 
of  the  Franldsh  Church  to  the  Roman  See  ; 3  his  own  oath 
of  fidelity,  taken  twenty  years  before,  had  admitted  in  un- 
equivocal language  the  special  powers  and  privileges  vested 

1  '  Quomodo  lex  Dei  et  ecclesiastica  religio  recuperetur,  quae  in  diebus 
praeteritorum  principum  dissipata  corruit.'     Migne,  Ixxxix  807. 

2  Guizot  pronounces  in  favour  of  Boniface's  disinterestedness  (ii  263-4), 
but  at  the  same  time  admits  '  il  est  impossible  de  soumettre  plus  fonnelle- 
mcnt  a  la  papaute  la  nouvelle  Eglise,  les  nouvelles  peuples  chre'tiens.' 
Milman  alao  pronounces  bis  allegiance  to  Rome  '  filial  not  servile.'    '  Had  it 
not  been  for  the  reformation  begun  by  Boniface,'  says  professor  Stubbs, 
'  and  worked  out  by  the  Karolings,  the  Gallican  Church  might  have  sunk 
to  the  level  of  the  Italian  or  Byzantine.'     Const.  Hist,  i  8, 

3  Cossart,  iii  1025 }  Migne,  Ixxxbt  765. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  45 

in  St.  Peter  and  his  successors ; l  and  the  famous  abbey  at  CHAP. 
Fulda,  which  rose  under  his  auspices,  and  was,  in  his  later  .  L  . 
years,  his  most  cherished  retreat,  is  the  first,  and  an  Founda- 
eminently  notable,  example  of  the  transfer  of  monastic 
allegiance  from  what  was  then  the  tyranny  of  the  episco- 
pate  to  the  papal  jurisdiction  and  authority.3  These  new 
relations,  again,  were  further  strengthened  and  consolidated 
by  the  community  of  interests  established  between  the 
Roman  pontiff  and  the  Carolingian  dynasty.  The  Frankish  Alliance 
monarch  became  the  devoted  son  of  the  Church.  He  pro- 
tected  her  from  sacrilege  and  enriched  her  with  temporal 
power.  Confronted  by  his  aegis,  the  insolent  Lombard  dynasty, 
turned  back  from  the  walls  of  Rome.  To  the  league  ratified 
by  Clovis  and  St.  Remy,  between  the  Frankish  power  and 
the  Latin  faith,  was  now  added  the  compact  between  the 
same  power  and  the  ecclesiastical  conceptions  of  Rome, 
signalised,  on  the  one  hand,  by  the  consecration  of  king 
Pepin  by  Boniface  at  Rheims,  and  on  the  other,  by  the  gift 
of  the  Exarchate.  *  Of  all  nations  under  heaven,'  wrote 
Stephen,  when  he  summoned  Pepin  to  his  aid,  '  the  Franks 
are  highest  in  the  esteem  of  St.  Peter :  to  me  you  owe  all 
your  victories.'  *  From  thenceforth,'  says  Milman,  with 
something  of  rhetorical  exaggeration,  but  with  substantial 
truth,  'from  thenceforth  Christianity  had  assumed  the 
complete  power,  not  only  of  the  life  to  come,  but  of  the 
present  life,  with  all  its  temporal  advantages.  It-  now 
leagued  itself  with  barbarians,  not  to  soften,  to  civilise,  to 
imbue  with  devotion,  to  lead  to  Christian  worship ;  but  to 
give  victory  in  all  their  ruthless  wars,  to  confer  the  blessings  \ 
of  heaven  on  their  schemes  of  ambition  and  conquest.  The 
one  title  to  eternal  life  is  obedience  to  the  Church — the 
Church  no  longer  the  community  of  pious  and  holy  Christians, 

1  Juramentum  quo  S.  Sonifficius  se  Gregorio  II  Papae  astrinxit :  .  .  .  nullo 
modo  me  contra  unitatem  communis  ct  universalis  ecclesiae,  suadente 
quopiain,  consentire,  sed,  ut  dixi,  fidem  et  puritatem  meam  atque  concursum, 
tibi  et  utilitatibus  tuae  Ecclesiae,  cui  a  Domino  Deo  potestas  liijandi 
xdvendiqup,  data  est,  et  praedicto  vicario  tuo  atque  successoribus  ejus,  per 
omnia  exhibere.  Migne,  Ixxxix  803. 

*  '  On  ne  rencontre  jusquea-la  aucun  exemple  semblable.'  Guizot,  ii 
111. 


46 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUTN. 


CHAP. 
L 


The  supreme  obliga- 
enlargement  of    her 


Influence 
of  Boni- 
face with 
respect  to 
education. 


but  the  see,  almost  the  city,  of  Eome. 
tion  of  man  is  the  protection  and 
domain.' ' 

It  is  not  without  reason  that,  throughout  the  vicissitudes 
of  fortune  which  liome  has  experienced  in  the  long  history 
of  her  endeavour  to  assert  these  claims  over  the  different 
states  of  Europe,  the  name  of  St.  Boniface  has  ever  been 
dear  to  her  most  enthusiastic  defenders,  and  that,  in  the 
profuseness  of  their  gratitude,  they  have  sought  to  associate 
his  name  not  merely  with  the  reformation  of  the  Frankish 
Church,  but  with  the  very  Christianity  itself  of  the  state. 3 

St.  Boniface,  as  is  well  known,  fell  a  victim  to  his 
missionary  zeal  in  Friesland — a  martyrdom  that  largely 
enhanced  the  veneration  for  his  memory  and  the  authority 
of  his  teaching.  To  Pepin's  eldest  son,  Charles,  who  at  that 
time  was  in  his  thirteenth  year,  the  name  of  the  great 
English  apostle — who  had  won  multitudes  from  paganism 
to  the  true  faith,  who  had  restored  discipline  to  the  Church, 
and  whose  holy  hands  had  poured  the  consecrated  oil  on  his 
father's  head  at  Kheirns — must  ever  have  seemed  surrounded 
by  a  halo  of  superhuman  virtues.  For  learning  itself 
Boniface  had  effected  little,  though  famed  as  a  scholar  in 
his  day.  He  composed,  it  is  said,  a  treatise  on  the  eight 
parts  of  speech3  and  was  believed  to  be  a  master  of  the 
metrical  art ;  he  also  appears  to  have  been  distinguished  as 
a  theologian  of  the  mystic  school  of  Cassian.4  Of  the 
general  direction  of  his  influence  therefore  there  can  be  no 

1  Milman,  iii  24. 

2  The  opposite  view,  which  .exhibits  Boniface  as  the  author  of  the 
sacrifice  of  the  freedom  of  the  German  Church  to  the  interests  of  Rome,  has 
recently  been  maintained,  though  with  little  breadth  of  view,  by  a  German 
Protestant  writer;     see  Eonifacius  der  Apostel  der  Deutgchen,  uiid  die 
Itomanisirung  von  Mittdeuropa.     By  A.  Werner.     Leipzig,  1875. 

8  The  treatise  is  printed  in  the  seventh  volume  of  Mai's  Auctwes  Classici, 
and  occupies  seventy-four  pages.  The  learned  editor  observes,  'Bonifacium 
paruin  oppido  de  penu  suo  in  hanc  opellam  contulisse  cognovi,  sed  earn 
potius  ex  Charisio  aliisque  grammaticis  consarcinasse.'  Praef.  p.  11.  As 
the  treatise  is  mentioned  neither  by  Willibald  nor  Othlo,  some  doubt  may 
reasonably  attach  to  its  genuineness. 

*'...  tarn  grammaticae  art-is  eloquentiae  et  metrorum  medullatae 
facundia  modulatione,  quam  etiam  histoiiae  simplici  expositione  etspiritualis 
tripartita  intolligentiae  iuterpretatione  imbutus.'  "Willibald,  c.  2. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  47 

doubt,  as  strongly  favouring  a  revival  of  letters  as  well  as  of     CHAP, 
discipline.     The  fourteen  years  that  intervened  between  the  ^  T'  _^ 
death  of  Boniface  and  that  of  Pepin-le-Bref,  occupied  as 
they  were  with  the  war  in  Lombardy,  and  that  against  the 
Saracens  in  the  south,  left  however  no  leisure  for  schemes 
of  internal  reform ;  and  when,  in  768,  Charles,  then  in  his  Accession 
twenty-sixth  year,  succeeded  to  the  crown,  similar  distrac-  768> 
tions, — as  his  youthful  energy  and  military  genius  succes- 
sively encountered  the  Lombard,  the  Saxon,  and  the  Saracen, 
— continued  to  interpose  between  the  royal  designs  and  the 
improvement  of  the  people. 

At  last  a  breathing  space  arrived.  The  Lombard  had  been 
driven  from  the  Exarchate,  and  new  pledges  of  fidelity  to 
Rome  had  ratified  the  traditional  policy  of  Charles'  dynasty. 
His  own  passion  for  invasion  had  been  severely  checked  at 
Roncesvalles.  The  Saxon  had  been  smitten  hip  and  thigh  on 
the  Lippe  and  the  Elbe.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  the 
Frankish  monarch  paid  his  second  visit  to  Italy,  in  780. 
The  Christmas  of  that  year  was  passed  by  him  at  Pavia,  the 
Lombard  capital ;  and  during  the  following  Easter,  his  son 
Pepin  was  anointed  and  crowned  king  of  Italy  by  pope 
Adrian  at  Rome.1 

It  would  appear  to  have  been  in  the  interval  between  these  He  meets 
last  two  events  that  Charles  and  Alcuin  met  at  Parma.     It  pa^.a1 
was  not  the  first  time  that  they  had  met.   In  passing  through 
Frankland,  in  the  year  768,  Alcuin,  who  was  returning  from 
Rome  in  the  company  of  his  teacher  Elbert,  archbishop  of 
York,  had  visited  the  Frankish  court,  and  had  probably  then 
become  known    to   Charles   as   a    rising  English    scholar. 
During  the  twelve  years  that  had  elapsed  since  that  time,  His 
Charles  had  not  been  altogether  inactive  in  the  cause  of  P™vlon.8 

,  .  .  efforts  in 

letters.     He  had  himself  acquired  something  of  polite  learn-  the  cause 
ing  from  an  elderly  Italian,  one  Peter  of  Pisa,  who  had  held  of  letters" 
office  as  instructor  in  the  palace  at  Aachen  under  Pepin-le- 
Bref.*    Through  the  assistance  of  Peter,  he  had  also  about 
this  time   obtained   the   services   of  an   eminent   Lombard 
scholar,  the  celebrated  Paulus  Diaconus. 

1  Einhard,  Annnles  (Pertz,  1 161).  2  Lebeuf,  p.  372. 


48  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

The  reputation  acquired  by  the  author  of  the  History  of 
the  Lombards  has  aroused  the  jealousies  of  Latin  and  Teu- 
tonic  partisans  alike ;  but,  without  affecting  to  arrive  at  a 
Diaconus.  decision  where  the  facts  cannot  with  certainty  be  known,  we 
may  be  guided  by  probability  to  a  definite  conclusion. 
Neither  the  version  which  represents  the  noble  Lombard  as 
the  bitter  enemy  of  the  Frankish  conqueror  and  even  a  con- 
spirator against  his  throne,  nor  that  which  exhibits  him  as 
Charles'  confidant  and  zealous  cooperator  in  the  work  of  re- 
constructing education,  seems  in  harmony  with  the  known 
facts.  It  is  certain  that  Paul,  from  family  ties  and  political 
sympathies,  must  have  regarded  the  ascendency  of  the 
Frankish  power  with  feelings  of  bitter  humiliation ;  but  it 
is  also  beyond  dispute  that  he  resided  both  at  Thionville 
and  Metz,  and  rendered  a  certain  amount  of  assistance  to 
Charles  in  the  latter's  schemes  of  reform.1  But  though  it  is 
easy  to  understand  that  he  might  undertake  to  teach  Greek 
to  certain  of  the  clergy  at  Metz  and  to  correct  the  text  of 
breviaries,2  we  cannot  but  suppose  that  residence  at  the  con- 
queror's court,  amid  the  haughty  Frankish  nobility,  would 
have  been  repugnant  to  his  feelings,  and  that  a  lively  sense 
of  injustice  and  humiliation  would  render  the  familiar  rela- 
tions' between  a  teacher  and  his  pupils  a  matter  of  some 
difficulty.  His  retirement,  in  787,  to  Monte  Cassino  may 
naturally  be  referred  to  a  sentiment  common  among  the 
finer  intellects  of  the  period — that  of  weariness  of  the  world. 
It  was  there  that  Paul  composed  his  History  of  the 
Lombards, — a  work  which,  notwithstanding  its  monastic 
origin,  has  extorted  the  reluctant  acknowledgements  of 
Gibbon ;  while  the  task  of  restoring  learning  in  Frankland 
devolved,  fortunately,  upon  one  who  stood  in  happier  relations 
to  the  monarch  and  the  people. 

It  was  in  the  year  781  that  Charles  and  Alcuin  met  at 
Parma.  The  latter  was  on  an  august  errand — that  of  con- 
veying the  pallium  from  pope  Adrian  to  his  friend  and  school- 

1  See  an  able  article  by  F.  Waciiter  in  Erscli  .u.  Gruber,  aec.  iii,  pt.  14, 
pp.  209-17. 

2  See  iufra,  p.  101. 


THE.  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE  49 

follow   Eanbald,   the  newly   created   archbishop    of  York.     CHAP. 
Eanbald  and  Alcuin  had  been  educated   together  at    the         *• 
famous  monastery  school  at  York,1  a  school  distinguished  by 
the  fidelity  with  which  it  sustained  the  scholarly  traditions  of 
Theodorus  and  Paulinus.     Their  chief  instructor  had  been  Teachers 
Elbert,  who  had  afterwards  been  raised  to  the  archiepiscopal  j^bert 
throne,  and  after  filling  it  for  twelve,  years  had  just  retired  and  Ean- 
in  favour  of  Eanbald.     Over  both  his  disciples  he  appears  to 
have  exercised  a  remarkable  influence.     He  was  a  scholar 
whom  a  passion  for  books  and  the  love  of  learning  had  often 
impelled  to  visit  the  monasteries  on  the  Continent,2  and  we 
can  hardly  doubt  that  Alcuin's  like  tastes  were  derived  in  no 
small  measure  from  his  preceptor. 

It  is  easy  to  conjecture  that  Charles'  penetrating  genius 
at  once  recognised  in  the  still  young  and  vigorous  English 
ecclesiastic  the  promise  of  more  effectual  aid  than  he  had 
hitherto  been  able  to  obtain.  Peter  of  Pisa  was  now  a 
tottering  old  man ;  Paulus  Diaconus,  an  impracticable 
Lombard.  Neither  seems  to  have  sought  to  conceal  his  con- 
tempt for  the  rude  vigour  and  unlettered  notions  of  the 
Frank,3  and  Paul  probably  looked  upon  the  conqueror  with 
much  the  same  feelings  as  those  with  which  an  Athenian 
sophist  of  the  second  century  before  Christ  regarded  Metellus 
or  Mummius.  Both  looked  upon  the  ascendency  of  the 
Frank  as  that  of  an  almost  barbaric  power.  It  was  other- 
wise with  Alcuin.  Between  the  English  and  the  Frankish 

1  Alcuin's  own  language  seems  to  imply  that  his  education  was  com- 
menced and  completed  under  the  same  masters: — '  Vos  fragiles  infantiae  meae 
auuos  inaterno  fovistis  aflectu  ;  et  lascivmu  puericiae  tempus  pia  sustimustis 
patientia  et  paternae  castigationis  disciplims  ad  perfectam  viri  edocuistis 
aetatem.'  Migne,  c  146.  It  would  probably  be  equally  correct  to  speak 
of  the  school  as  the  cathedral  school,  for  at  this  time  monks  and  canons 
in  England 'appear  to  have  lived  together  indiscriminately.  See  Stubbs, 
Prcf.  to  De  Inventione,  p.  vi.  Alcuin's  biographer  says  of  Elbert  (c.  C), 
1  erat  siquidem  ei  ex  nobilium  filiis  grex  scholasticoruin.' 
a  '  Non  semel  externas  peregrine  tramile  terras 

Jam  peragravit  ovans,  sopliiae  deductus  arnore, 
Si  quid  forte  novi  librorum  seu  studiorum, 
Quod  secum  ferret  terris  reperiret  in  illis.' 

Alcuin.  Poe-ma  tie  Pontificibus  Eccleniae  Eboracensis,  Migne,  ci  845. 
3  Monnier,  p.  G6. 

E 


50  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAPv  race  there  were  strong  ethnic  affinities,  and  ever  since  the 
^  /  ^  time  of  St.  Boniface  the  intercourse  between  the  two  had  been 
more  frequent  and  important.  Northumbria,  as  her  star 
waned  before  that  of  Mercia,  had  more  than  once -been  aided 
by  the  Frankish  power,  while  the  relations  between  Charles 
and  Oifa  had  not,  as  yet,  assumed  a  hostile  character.  If 
the  Northumbrian  schplar  would  but  prove  to  Frankland 
but  half  as  true  a  benefactor  as  the  great  apostle  from 
Wessex  had  been,  small  need  would  there  be  to  seek  among 
the  somewhat  supercilious  literati  beyond  the  Alps  for  help 
in  the  work  of  reform. 

Position  of         On  Alcuin's  side,  again,  there  existed  an  unfeigned admira- 
York.n        ti°n  f°r  Charles'  genius  and  character ;  while,  if  we  may 
accept  the  statement  of  his  biographer,  the  aged  Elbert  had 
prophesied,  when  near  his  end,  that  his  disciple  would  find 
in  Frankland  a  sphere  of  wide  and  honourable  service  in  the 
cause  of  the  Church.1     Under  these  circumstances  it  is  not 
surprising   that   Alcuin    acceded   to    a   proposal,    strongly 
urged  and  accompanied  by  no  ordinary  inducements,  that  he 
r  should  exchange  the  office  of  scltolasiicuR  at  York  for  that  of 
He  accepts  instructor  of  the  school  attached  to  Charles'  court.     It  was 
instructor   necessary,  however,  that  the  consent  of  both  his  archbishop 
of  the         and  the  king  should  be  given  to  such  a  step,  and  with  this 
school.        reservation  Alcuin  parted  from  Charles  at  Parma.     On  his 
arrival  in  England  he  sought  and  obtained  the  desired  per- 
mission, Eanbald  stipulating  simply  that  his  departure  should 
not  be  regarded  as  final ;  and  thus,  in  the  year  782,  Alcuin 
again  crossed  the  Channel  and  was  installed  as  teacher  of 
the  school  at  Aachen. 

The  history  of  Charles  the  Great,  it  has  been  said  by  a 
high  authority,  enters  into  that  of  every  modern  European 
state ; 2  with  equal  truth  it  may  be  asserted  that  the  history 
of  the  schools  of  Charles  the  Great  has  modified  the  whole 

1  '  Rornam  volo  venias,  indeque  revertens  visites  Franciam ;  novi  eirim 
multiun  te  ibi  facere  fructum.'  Alcuini  Vita,  c.  5,  Migne,  c  97.  Elbert 'a 
death  appears  to  have  almost  immediately  preceded  Alcuin's  second  journey 
to  Rome  and  must  consequently  be  assigned  to  November  6,  780,  not  781 
or  782,  as  given  by  Dixon,  Fasti  Eboracense*,  i  106. 

9  Palgrave,  i  24. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE. 


51 


subsequent  history  of  European  culture.     It  will  accordingly     CHAP, 
be  an  enquiry  of  no  trifling1   moment  if  we  endeavour  to   ^     *•  _. 
ascertain,  with  some  precision,  the  extent,  character,  and 
tendencies  of  the  learning  which   Alcuin  had  acquired  at 
York,  and  was  now  about  to  disseminate  in  Frankland  with, 
as  we  shall  hereafter  see  good  reason  for  concluding,  but 
little  colouring  from  his  individual  genius. 

The  school  of  York,  at  the  time  that  Alcuin  became  a  pupil  The 
there,  was  scarcely  inferior  in  reputation  to  that  of  Canter-  ePlgc°Pal 
bury.     If  the  archiepiscopal  city  of  Cantia  could  recall  the  dral  school 
patronage   of  a   Gregory  the  Great,  that  of  Northumbria  at    or  ' 
could  point  to  the  presence  of  a  Paulinus.     If  the  former 
might  claim  to  be  the  nurse  of  English  learning,  the  latter 
would  seem  to  have  long  been  that  learning's  more  distin- 
guished supporter;  and  though,  with  the  redistribution  of 
dioceses  initiated  by  Theodore,  the  primate  of  the  south  had 
acquired  an  influence  far  superior  to  that  of  his  northern 
brother,  the  diminution  in  ecclesiastical  power  at  York  was 
perhaps  accompanied  by  a  more  imselfish  devotion  to  letters.1 
The  tradition  of  the  learning  which  Alcuin  there  acquired  is  jta  tmii_ 
directly  stated  by  his  anonymous  biographer  to  have  been  tion  °f 
that  handed  down  by  St.  Benedict,  St.  Gregory,  St.  Augus- 
tine, St.  Cuthbert,  and   Theodorus;  and  the  statement  is 
confirmed  by  Alcnin's  own  account  in  his  well-known  poem, 
De  Pontificibus   et  Sanctis  Eeclesiae  Eboracensis.     The   first 
feature  in  this  learning  that  arrests  the  attention  is  the 
contrast  it  presents,  in  common  with  the  Church  discipline 
of  the  land,  to  all  the  other  characteristics  of  Anglo-Saxon 
life  in  the  eighth  century,  as  a  non-Teutonic  element.     In 
every  other  respect  the  country  that  gave  Alcuin  to  the 
Franks  was  German,  more  German  indeed  than  at  that  time 
was  Germany  herself.     She  had  preserved,  as  yet,  almost 
intact  from  feudal  (that  is  to  say,  Frankish)  influences  her 
primitive  common  law.     Among  the  earliest  specimens  of 
the   Low-German  tongue   is   the   famous    song,   to  which 
Alcuin  when  a  boy  may  oft  have  listened  in  his  father's  hall, 
that  tells  of  the  achievements  of  Beowulf.     The  customs  of 

1  Stubbs,  Const.  Hist,  i  218-9 ;  Milman,  ii  236. 
E  '2 


52  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP.  Mercia  and  Northumbria  resemble  far  more  faithfully  than 
._-*•  _.  those  of  Neustria  or  Australia  the  picture  drawn  by  the 
Roman  historian  of  the  common  fatherland.  But  when  we 
turn  to  the  library  at  York  and  to  the  training  which  Alcuin 
received  at  the  cathedral  school,  we  discern  a  totally  different 
element,  and  one  that  will  well  repay  a  somewhat  lengthened 
examination. 

The  Tt  was  but  a  few  years  after  the  time  when  Gregory  of 

teaching  of  Tours  uttered  his  doleful  lament  over  the  decay  of  learning  in 
the  Great.  Frankland,  that  his  more  illustrious  contemporary,  Gregory 
the  Great,  laid  the  foundations  of  learning  in  England.  In 
estimating  the  character  of  that  learning,  it  should  never  be 
forgotten  that  the  originator  of  the  mission  of  St.  Augustine 
was  also  the  biographer  and  admirer  of  St.  Benedict,  and 
himself  the  impersonation  of  both  the  monastic  and  the 
hierarchical  spirit.  To  that  tradition  of  pagan  learning 
which  we  have  traced,  in  its  decline  and  disappearance,  in 
the  previous  chapter,  Gregory  was  even  yet  more  strongly 
opposed  than  Jerome,  Cassian,  or  Benedict.  Romanity,  as 
a  system,  was  at  an  end ;  and  in  its  place  monastic  mediaeval 
Christianity  had  arisen.  The  'powerful  intellect  which  left 
so  deep  an  impress  on  the  history  of  the  latter  half  of  the 
sixth  century  had  constructed  a  new  ideal  of  the  Christian 
life,  compared  with  which  that  to  be  found  in  the  pages  of 
Ausonius  or  Sidonius  is  languid  and  feeble  indeed.  The 
policy  and  character  of  Gregory  have  been  vigorously  assailed 
a,nd  ably  defended ;  but,  as  it  seems  to  us,  neither  his  de- 
tractors nor  his  admirers  have  assigned  sufficient  importance 
to  one  element  in  his  estimate  of  human  life — an  element, 
however,  which  really  formed  the  basis  of  all  his  calculations. 
It  is  impossible  to  study  the  letters  of  this  Father  with- 
out perceiving  that  his  whole  views  were  dominated  by  one 
solemn  belief.  As  firmly  as  the  octogenarian  believes  that 
his  life  is  drawing  to  its  close,  so  firmly  did  Gregory  believe 
Theories  that  the  world  was  near  its  end.  The  fall  of  Eome  and  of 
vTth^th^  *ke  emP""e  were  events  which  pagan  and  Christian  writers 
fall  of  had  alike  foreseen  and  had  equally  deprecated,  though  from 
different  points  of  view.  To  the  former  they  seemed  to  in- 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  53 

volve  the  destruction  of  art,  of  science,  and  of  learning;  in     CHAP. 

fine,  of  all   that   civilization  which  alone  made  life  worth  . ,! , 

having.  To  the  latter  they  portended  that  final  consumma- 
tion which  would  bring  with  it,  not  simply  the  overthrow  of 
thrones  and  empires,  but  of  all  earthly  things — the  anarchy 
of  Antichrist's  reign  and  the  Last  Judgement.  But  neither 
the  pagan  nor  the  Christian  seer  professed  to  believe  that 
Rome  was  really  'the  Eternal  City/  Among  the  dark  tra-  The  pagan 
ditions  most  familiar  to  the  former,  was  that  which  taught  tradnion- 
that  the  twelve  vultures  seen  by  her  founder  from  the  Pala- 
tine symbolised  how  many  centuries  the  city  should  endure. 
Long  before,  and  long  after,  Eome  was  actually  taken  by 
Alaric,  we  find,  ever  recurring  at  times  of  great  calamity,  a 
disposition  on  the  part  of  the  theologian  and  the  commen- 
tator to  give  a  similar  precise  and  definite  application  to 
Christian  prophecy.  The  predictions  in  the  Book  of  Daniel  Views  of 

C*V*     '      4- ' 

concerning  the  Fourth  Kingdom,  the  more  distinct  allusions  wrjteiS0 
contained  in  the  apocryphal  second  book  of  Esdras,  the 
denunciations  of  the  later  Sibylline  verses,1  and  the  vaguer 
predictions  shadowed  forth  in  the  Apocalypse,  were  all  in 
turn  regarded  as  having  a  direct  relation  to  present  or  im- 
pending calamity.  It  was  thus  that  Tertullian  was  led  to 
pray  that  the  power  of  Rome  might  long  endure ;  it  was 
thus  that  Jerome,  in  his  Bethlehem  cell,  interpreted,  to  use 
Villeinain's  fine  expression,  the  denunciations  of  the  prophets 
by  the  light  of  burning  Rome  ;  it  was  thus  that  Sulpicius 
Severus  saw,  in  the  armed  strife  and  struggles  for  the 
supreme  power  that  belonged  to  his  own.  day,  the  anarchy 
and  woes  of  '  the  last  times.*  To  this  theory  the  great  The  inva- 
Lombard  invasion  had  given  new  and  terrible  emphasis.  If  ^lon  of  the 

Lombards. 

a  desolated  Italy,  smoking  cities,  ruined  monasteries,  and 
desecrated  temples, — if  slaughter,  rapine,  and  social  disor- 
ganisation such  as  the  empire  had  never  before  witnessed, — 
could  be  considered  as  prognosticating  the  final  crisis,  then 
the  end  was  surely  at  hand.  It  is  observable  that  Gregory's 
own  adoption  of  the  monastic  life  seems  to  have  followed 
closely  upon  the  invasion  ;  and  it  is  certain  that  throughout 

1  See  Milman,  Hist,  of  Chi-isiiamty,  bk.  n,  c.  7. 


54 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I 

Gregory's 
belief  that 
the  world 
was  near 
its  end. 


General 
acceptance 
of  St. 
Gregory's 
teaching  in 
England. 


Its  trans- 
mission 
through 
the  teach- 
ers of 
Alcuin. 


the  rest  of  his  career  he  believed  that  the  course  of  time  was 
all  but  run  :  the  world's  future  had  dwindled  to  but  a  span, 
and  human  aims  and  destinies  stood  transformed.  Of  what 
avail,  then,  to  transcribe  the  pages  of  a  literature  which  must 
shortly  perish  iu  one  dread  conflagration  ?  What  folly  more 
suicidal  than  to  expend  on  the  frivolities  and  errors  of  pagan- 
ism those  precious  hours  of  which  the  Judge  of  aU  mankind 
would  soon  demand  so  strict  an  account  ?  To  convert  the 
heathen,  to  succour  the  helpless  and  miserable,  to  study  the 
Scriptures  and  unfold  their  latent  meaning,  to  adorn  and 
celebrate  the  ritual  of  the  Church — these,  and  these  alone, 
were  the  occupations  which  either  the  crisis  could  warrant 
or  the  conscience  sanction  ! 

In  no  country,  not  even  in  Italy  itself,  did  Gregory's 
teaching  find  more  unhesitating  acceptance  than  in  England; 
and  it  was  but  natural  that  it  should  be  so.  To  the  scholars 
in  each  monastery  and  school  throughout  the  land  the  story 
of  his  compassion,  as  he  saw  their  helpless  countrymen  stand- 
ing in  the  market-place  at  Borne,  must  have  been  a  thrice- 
told  tale.  It  was  well  known  that  he  had  himself  started  on 
the  mission  which  he  was  compelled  to  delegate  to  Augustine; 
and  Bede  relates  at  length  how  all  questions  that  perplexed 
the  latter  in  his  work  of  conversion  were  referred  for  solu- 
tion to  the  former.1  The  very  music  of  the  English  ritual, 
as  modified  by  Benedict  Biscop,  on  his  return  from  Rome, 
was  associated  with  Gregory's  name.  In  Gregory's  scheme 
of  evangelisation,  the  city  of  York  had  been  especially  de- 
signated as  the  seat  of  a  northern  metropolitan.2  Of  the 
authority,  therefore,  of  the  Gregorian  tradition,  as  the  recog- 
nised canon  of  lawful  learning  in  the  English  monasteries 
and  schools  of  the  seventh  and  eighth  centuries,  there  can 
be  not  the  slightest  doubt;  of  its  acceptance  at  the  school 
of  York  we  have,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  direct  testi- 
mony of  Alcuin's  biographer ;  Egbert,  the  teacher  of  Alcuiu, 
was  the  disciple  of  Bede,  to  whom,  says  the  writer,  he  was 
'  a  devoted  Samuel ; '  and  *  in  Egbert  the  same  learning  and 
doctrine  were  conspicuous  that  had  shone  so  brightly  in  his 

1  Ecdes.  Hist.  bk.  I,  c.  27.  *  Milman,'bk.  iv,  c.  3. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  55 

teachers — in  St.  Gregory,  the  Apostle  of  the  Angles;1   in     CHAP. 
Gregory's  disciple,  Augustine ;  in  St.  Benedict,  and  in  Cuth-   .     *'     . 
bert  and   Theodoras,  the  followers  of  the  first  Father  and 
Apostle  of  the  Church  in  all  things' 2     Albinus,  who  preceded 
Egbert  as  teacher  of  the  school  at  York,  was  Bede's  intimate 
friend,  and  is  expressly  named  by  him  in  his  History  as  his 
'  chief  guide  and  helper  '  in  the  compilation  of  the  work. 

In  the    above   significant  reference  to  the  teaching  of  -Antagon- 
these  eminent  men,  as  maintaining  the  Petrine  tradition,  we  teaching  "* 
see  brought  before  us  another  and  scarcely  less  important  to  the 
feature  in  the  doctrine  handed  down  from  Gregory — namely,  Church. 
the  spirit  of  antagonism  to   the  eastern  Church.     Admitting, 
as  we  needs  must,  the  wide  differences  that  distinguish  the 
western  Church  of  the  seventh  century  from  that  of  the 
thirteenth — the  ecclesiasticism   of   Gregory   from    that    of 
Innocent  in — it   is  still  not  difficult  to  trace  back  to  the 
former  some  at  least  of  the  elements  of  the  dispute  which 
developed  into  the  great  schism.     Even  Gregory's  indignant 
repudiation  of  the  title  of  '  universal  bishop ' — a  disavowal 
often  quoted  to  shew  the  indefensible  character  of  the  pre- 
tensions of  his  successors  in  the  papal  chair — was  called  forth, 
it  is  to  be  remembered,  not  by  any  abstract  proposition  re- 
specting such  a  supremacy,  but  by  the  assumption  of  the  title 
by  his  rival  at  Constantinople.     *  His  very  protest/  it  has 
been  said,  *  was  a  link  in  the  chain  which  was  to  hold  the 
Latin  nations  together  and  to  fasten  them  to  the  chair  of  the 
successor  of  St.  Peter.'3    It  is  certain  that  to  this  period  we 
can  trace  back  much  of  that  jealousy  of  easteni  ritual  and 

1  '  The  Apostle  of  the  Angles ; '  compare  Bede's  language,  '  for  we  may 
and  ought  rightly  to  call  him  our  Apostle.'    Eccles.  Hist.  bk.  ir,  c.  1. 

2  ' ...  in  quo  (Egbert)  ea,  suis  quae  in  praeceptoribus  fulserat  doctrina 
non  mediocriter  enitirit,  in  sancto  videlicet  Anglorum  apostolo  Gregorio, 
Augustino  ejus  discipulo,  Benedicto  sancto,  Cuthbertoque  simul  et  Theodore, 
primi   Patris  et    apostoli  per   omnia  ...   sequentibus.'      Migne,   ci  94. 
Wilfrid,  bishop  of  York,  seems  to  have  unlearned  at  Rome  whatever  lie 
might  have  learned  at  Lindisfarne  of  an  opposite  character ;  and  Theodoras, 
Greek  though  he  was  by  birth,  appears  throughout  as  the  staunch  assertor 
of  the  Roman  discipline,  though  not  of  papal  jurisdiction.     See  Bede,  Ecc. 
Hist.  bk.  m,  c.  29 ;  bk.  iv,  c.  2  ;  bk.  v,  c.  19. 

3  Maurice,  Philosophy  of  the  First  Six  Centuries,  p.  155. 


56 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 

Differences 

British  and 
Latin 

Christian- 1 
ity. 


Con- 


Easter. 


eastern  tenets  which,  ultimately  resulted  in  the  formal  sepa- 
ration of  the  two  Churches. 

Unlike  the  representatives  of  Teutonism  in  Italy,  Spain, 
an(i    Gaul,   at  the   same  period,  the  Saxons,   Angles,   and 

.  ' 

Frisians  who  invaded  Britain  in  the  fifth  century  were  corn- 
pjetgjy   ignorant  of  Christianity,  and  no  influence  among 
the  race  whom  they  subjugated,  expelled,  or  exterminated, 
appears  to  have  pleaded  in  behalf  of  that  faith  which  was 
still  cherished  as  a  tradition  from  the  Eoman  occupation. 
No  British  ecclesiastic  saw,  like  St.  Remy,  another  Clovis 
bending  iii  adoration  before  the  uplifted  cross  ;  no  Clotilda, 
among  the  conquerors  of  Cantia  or  East  Anglia,  moulded 
the  stern  spirit  of  her  pagan  lord  by  tales  of  miraculous 
powers  wielded  by  the  apostles  of  the  Latin  faith.     Chris- 
tianity fled  with  its  British  adherents  to  the  mountain  fast- 
nesses of  Wales,  to  the  Gaelic  borders  in  the  north,  or  to 
where,    within   the   tranquil   precincts   of    the    Holy   Isle, 
flourishing  and  wealthy  monasteries  still  afforded  shelter  to 
learning  and  religion.     Between  these  poor  fugitives  and  the 
Church  of  Rome  the  Saxon-occupation  interposed  a  barrier 
that  resulted  in  complete  isolation.     Any  attempt  to  convert 
the   Saxon   conqueror  must  have   appeared  hopeless,   and 
across  the  hostile  populations  of  Mercia,  Wessex,  East  Anglia, 
and  Cantia,  they  could  not  stretch  the  hand  of  brotherhood 
to  Rome.     Between  this  Church  and  that  of  Rome  elements 
of  serious   difference   accordingly  grew  silently  up.       The 
latter  Church,  with  the  view  of  bringing  its  reckoning  of 
Easter   into  harmony  with  that  of  the  still  powerful  and 
flourishing  communion  at  Alexandria,  decided,  in  the  year 
458,  to  substitute  for  the  older  84-year  cycle  that  of  532 
years,1  known  as  the  19-y  ears'  cycle,  introduced  in  A.D.  457 
by  Victor  of  Aquitaine.     In  the  year  525,  this  reckoning  was 
in  turn  modified  by  the  method  introduced  by  Dionysius 

1  Obtained  by  multiplying  together  19,  the  cycle  of  the  moon,  and  28, 
the  cycle  of  the  sun.  See  an  able  summary  of  the  whole  question  of  the 
observance  of  Easter  in  an  article  by  the  Rev.  L.  Hensley,  in  Smith  and 
Oheetham'a  Diet,  of  Christian  Antiquities,  vol.  i.  That  the  Irish  method 
was  not  derived  from  the  Eastern  Church  ia  clearly  shewn  in  Haddan  and 
Stubbs,  Councils  and  Documents,  i,  c.  ii,  Append.  D. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  57 

Exiguus.     Another  element  of  difference  was  that  of  the     CHAP. 
right  mode  of  performing  baptism  ;  but  after  the  time  of  ^     *'     ^ 
Augustine,  the  controversy  turned  mainly  upon  the  mode  of 
calculating  Easter  and  the  fashion  of  the  tonsure.     Other  Other 
points  of  difference  are  recorded  :  the  British  Church  had  a  difference. 
peculiar  ritual  in   the  mass  and  at  ordination  ;  and  it   is 
worthy  of  note  that  the  consecration  of  a  bishop  by  a  single 
bishop  was  regarded  as  valid  —  a  view  to  which  the  Romish 
Church  long  afterwards  gave  its  sanction.1 

It  was  thus  that,  when  the  British  clergy  and  the  monks 
who  accompanied  Augustine  were  brought  face  to  face,  it 
was  found  that  a  formidable  if  not  insurmountable  element 
of  difference  existed.  In  connexion  with  this  somewhat 
obscure  passage  in  our  history,  it  is  but  just  to  remember 
that  Bede,  from  whom  we  derive  our  knowledge  of  the  facts, 
was  entirely  on  the  side  of  the  Latin  Church  ;  and  it  at  least 
admits  of  doubt  whether  that  '  obstinate  and  indiscrimina- 
ting  isolation/  for  which  the  British  clergy  have  been  cen- 
sured by  a  high  authority,2  was  not  rather  the  result  of  a 
well-  warranted  conviction  that  there  was  little  hope  of  their 
being  admitted  to  treat  on  equal  terms  with  those  who  were 
supported  by  the  conqueror.  But,  however  we  may  be  in- 
clined to  apportion  the  blame,  it  is  certain  that  about  the 
time  of  Theodorus,  who  was  consecrated  seventh  archbishop 
of  Canterbury  in  the  year  668,  the  Roman  —  that  is  to  say, 
the  Gregorian  —  traditions  of  Church  discipline  entirely  sup- 
planted those  of  the  British  Church.  Wilfrid,  afterwards  The 
archbishop  of  York,  unlearned  at  Rome  the  Celtic  traditions 


of  Lindisfame,  and  at  the  memorable  council  of  Whitby,  in  supplants 
664,  maintained   the   tradition  of  St.  Peter;   Colman,  the  British 
bishop  of  Lindisfarne,  maintained,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Church. 
tradition  of  St.  John.     It  is  a  f  amilia,r  story  how  he  never- 
theless admitted  that  St.  Peter  held  the  keys  of  heaven  ; 
whereupon  Oswin,  the  conqueror  of  the  pagan  Pcnda,  de- 
clared himself  on  the  side  of  the  latter  apostle  —  *  lest,  when 

1  Bede,  Ecclet.  Hist,  rv  i  ;  v  xxi. 

3  '  There  was  no  reason  why  the  English  should  not  have  become 
Christian  when  and  as  the  Franks  did,  but  from  the  condition  and  temper  of 
the  native  population.'  Stubbs,  Const.  Hist.  i  220. 


58 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 

Bede's 
sympathy 
with  the 
former. 


Bede's 
mental 
character- 
istics. 


I  offer  myself  at  the  gates  of  heaven,  he  should  shut  them 
against  me.'  From  this  time  the  Petrine,  the  Gregorian, 
the  Roman  tradition  was  supreme.  The  '  Scots,'  by  which 
name  Bede  denotes  the  Celtic  clergy,  either  yielded  submis- 
sion or  '  returned  into  their  own  country.' l  He  himself, 
educated  in  the  orthodox  doctrine,  recorded  their  defeat, 
and  insensibly  imbibed  that  feeling  of  strong  partisanship 
which,  combined  with  his  Anglo-Saxon  sympathies,  has  left 
a  marked  impress  on  his  writings.  A  native  clergy  grew  up 
who  were,  as  Milman  describes  them,  *  the  admiring  pupils 
of  the  Roman  clergy  ; '  who  looked  ever  to  Rome  for  guidance 
in  doubt  or  difficulty.  To  visit  Rome  became  the  crowning 
ambition  of  both  the  monastic  and  the  priestly  life.2  When 
we  consider  that  Egbert,  the  teacher  of  the  school  of  York, 
was  largely  guided  by  the  counsels  of  Bede,  and  that  he, 
along  with  his  kinsman  Elbert,  was  the  instructor  of  Alcuin, 
we  shall  have  sufficiently  explained  the  general  character  of 
the  traditions  that  Alcuin.  inherited  and  was  likely  to  trans- 
mit. His  unqualified  admiration  for  Gregory  is,  indeed, 
conspicuous  throughout  his  writings.3 

Of  Bede,  Egbert,  Elbert,  and  Alcuin  it  may  alike  be  said, 
that  they  all  appear  to  have  exhibited  with  singular  uni- 
formity the  main  characteristics  of  the  Anglo-Saxon  mind. 
Of  this  the  first  is  perhaps  the  most  striking  example.  The 
ability  with  which  he  digested  the  stores  of  learning  that 
Theodorus,  Benedict  Biscop,  Albinus,  and  Northelm  succes- 
sively imported  from  the  Continent,  must  not  lead  us  into 
the  error  of  attributing  to  him  the  possession  of  original 
genius.  The  exuberant  fancy  with  which,  after  the  manner 
of  Cassian  and  Ambrose,  he  interprets  the  Pentateuch  and 

1  Eccles.  Hist,  in  xviii.    Milman,  ii  249. 

8  It  will  be  observed  that  this  deference  to  the  doctrinal  teaching  of 
Rome  stood  on  quite  another  basis  from  that  on  which  it  was  sought  to 
found  the  claims  of  papal  supremacy  in  England.  Wilfrid's  endeavours  to 
assert  the  latter  were  successfully  resisted  by  Theodorus  and  the  Northum- 
brian monarch.  See  an  important  criticism  on  this  passage  in  English 
Church  history  in  Haddan's  Remains,  pp.  208-9,  323. 

3  '  Gregorius  .  .  .  toto  venerabilis  orbi,'  '  maximus  agrorum  Ohristi 
cultor;'  Alcuin  ranks  him  with  St.  Jerome,  'Ecclesiae  ille  pater,  iste 
magister  erat.'  Migne,  ci  742,  816. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  59 

'the  Book  of  Samuel  is  essentially  the  activity  of  a  second-     CIUP. 

rate  order  of  intellect.     As  it  was,  however,  his  powers  were   . ^ , 

exactly  of  the  kind  which  enabled  him  to  render  very  effec-. 
tive  service  to  his  age.  He  appreciated,  classified,  and 
interpreted  the  newly  discovered  literature  in  a  manner  iu 
harmony  with  the  traditions  of  the  Latin  Church.  He 
advocated  no  counter-theory,  raised  no  controversy,  founded 
no  school:  it  was  all  that  at  the  time  his  countrymen  needed 
at  his  hands.  But  whether  a  simple  adherence  to  the  same 
canons  was  sufficient  to  maintain  a  vigorous  life  in  the  school 
at  York,  or  in  any  other  school,  is  a  question  which 
Alcuin's  career  and  experiences  will  bring  very  prominently 
before  us. 

As  a  theologian,  Alcuin,  like  Bede,  is  little  more  than  an  Alcuin's^7 
echo  of  preceding  writers.  In  the  eminently  characteristic  agreement 
letter  to  two  Frankish  ladies,  prefixed  to  his  commentary 
on  St.  John's  Gospel,  he  confesses,  indeed,  very  candidly  tha.t 
he  claims  no  higher  function.  As  the  physician  compounds 
his  medicines  from  herbs  gathered  from  various  fields,  so  he 
himself  is  but  a  gleaner  in  the  writings  of  the  great  doctors 
of  the  Church — St.  Augustine,  St.  Ambrose,  St.  ^Gregory, 
and  Bede.1  He  levies,  in  fact,  such  heavy  contributions  on 
the  Homilies  of  the  last-named  writer,  that  Mabillon  called 
in  question  his  right  to  be  considered  the  authpr  of  the  com- 
mentary in  question ;  and  the  doubt  thus  raised  was  decided 
in  Alcuin's  favour  only  when  Frobenius  pointed  out  the 
allusions  to  the  Adoptionists,  of  whom  Bede,  of  course,  could 
have  known  nothing.2 

But  although  as  a  theologian  Alcuin  held  but  an  inferior  Harmony 
position,  his  views  as  a  churchman  possessed  this  signal 
merit,  that  they  were  in  complete  harmony  with  the  Caro- 
lingian  policy.  In  all  questions  of  authority,  his  deference 
for  Rome  exceeds  even  that  of  Bede  or  any  preceding  English 
ecclesiastic.  As  Pepin-le-Bref,  by  his  grants  of  territory,  p 

1  Migne,  c  741, 

2  Ibid,  c  736.     Frobenius,  however,  adds,  '  Alcuinus  tamen  ornnes  Yen. 
Bedae  homiliaa,  in  quibus  nonnulla  capitula  S.  Joannis  exposuit,  iu  suum 

couiinoniarium  transtulit.' 


60 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 


The 
library 
.at  York. 


had  laid  the  foundations  of  the  temporal  power,  so  Alcuiri 
supported  the  papal  supremacy  by  citations  from  those 
a.pocryphal  fragments  which  were  afterwards  to  appear  in 
the  Pseudo-Isidore ; l  and  as  Charles  the  Great  declared 
himself  to  be  '  in  all  things  the  ally  of  the  apostolic  see/ 2  so 
Alcnin  taught  that  a  good  Catholic  must  bow  to  the  approved 
authority  of  the  Holy  Eoman  Church.3  The  hierarchical 
views  that  prevailed  at  York  were  completely  consonant  with 
the  political  views  that  obtained  at  Aachen.  Emperor  and 
scholar  were,  each  in  his  way,  carrying  out  the  ideas  of 
Gregory  the  Great ;  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  Alcuin's 
influence  may  have  contributed  (perhaps  more  materially 
than  has  ever  been  suspected)  to  what  some  have  regarded 
as  Charles'  '  chief  political  error ' 4 — the  encouragement  which 
he  afforded  to  the  pretensions  of  Rome. 

Most  students  of  English  history  are  familiar  with  the 
lines  in  which  Alcuin  enthusiastically  describes  the  library 
of  which  he  was  the  appointed  guardian  at  York,8  and  from 

1  '  Mernini  me  legisso  quondam,  si  rite  recorder,  in  canonibus  beati 
Silvestri,  non  minus  72  testibus  pontiticem  accusandum  esse,  et  judicio 
praesentari:  et  ut  illorum  talis  vita  esset,  ut  contra  tale  in  auctoritatem 
potuiesent  stare.     Insuper  et  in  aliis  legebara  canonibus,  apostolicam  sedem 
judiciarium  eese,  non  judicandum.'     Epist.  to  Arno,  Migne,  c  324. 

2  ' .  .  .  adjutor  in  omnibus  apostolicae  sedis.'    Capitulary  of  7(59.     Fertz, 
Legy.  i  33. 

3  '  Et  ne  schismaticus  inveniatur  et  non  catholicus,  sequatur  probatis- 
simam  sanctae  Roinanae  Ecclesiae  auctoritatem.1    Migue,  c  293.    See  also 
Adv.  Felicem,  I  C,  and  vn  13. 

4  Hallaui,  Middle  Ages,  i  13. 

5  '  Illic  invenies  veterum  vestigia  Patrum, 
Quidquid  liabet  pro  se  Latio  Roman  us  in  orbe, 
Graecia  vel  quidquid  transmisit  clara  Latinis : 
Hebraicus  vel  quod  populus  bibit  inibre  superno, 
Africa  lucifluo  vel  quidquid  liunine  sparsit. 

^    Quod  Pater  llieronymus,  qucd  scnsit  Hilarius,  atque 
Arabrosius,  praeaul,  simul  Augustinus,  et  ipse 
Sanctus  Athanasius,  quod  Orosias  edit  avitus : 
Quidquid  Gregorius  summus  docet,  et  Leo  papa ; 
Basilius  quidquid,  Fulgentius  atque  coruscant. 
Cassiodorua  item,  Ohrysostoraus  atque  Joannes. 
Quidquid  et  Altbelmus  docuit,  quid  Beda  magister 
Quae  Victorinus  scripsere,  Boetius :  atque 
Historic!  veterea,  Pompeius,  Pliniua,  ipse 
Acer  Aiistoteles,  rhetor  quoque  T ullius  ingens. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE. 

whence  we  shall  gain  our  most  accurate  idea  of  the  extent 
and  character  of  the  learning  which  he  was  now  to  convey 
to  the  monasteries  and  schools  of  Frankland.  The  imposing 
enumeration  at  once  calls  our  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
library  at  York,  at  this  period,  far  surpassed  any  possessed 
by  either  England  or  Trance  in  the  twelfth  century,  whether 
that  of  Christ  Church,  Canterbury,  of  St.  Victor  at  Paris,  or 
of  Bee  in  Normandy.  The  invasions  of  the  Northmen  in 
the  ninth  and  tenth  centuries  fell,  in  both  countries,  with 
peculiar  severity  on  the  monasteries ;  and  the  result  was 
that  neither  Alfred  the  Great,  St.  Dunstan,  nor  John  of 
Salisbury  had  access  to  libraries  like  those  known  to  Bede 
and  Alcuin. 

Allowing  for  the  poetic  vein  of  Alcuiu's  description,  and  Tho 
not  unreasonably  surmising  (although  he  assures  us  the  list  studied  by 
might  have  been  greatly  extended)  that  an  enumeration  which  Alcuin- 
includes  the  names  of  Phocas  (the  author  of  a  sorry  life  of 
Virgil),  of  Euticius,  and  Comminianus,  can  hardly  have  passed 
by  much  of  note  or  value,  it  is  still  probable  that  the  library 
was  the  best  that  England  then  possessed. 

With  two   exceptions,  to  one  of  which  we  shall  have  Boethius, 
hereafter  to  allude  at  length,1  all  the  text-books  of  the  period  jm  524.' 
are  there.     Of  these  Boethius  must  certainly  be  regarded  as 
the  most  important,  from  the  fact  that  in  his  pages  are  pre- 
served that  slight  modicum  of  school  learning  which  found 

Quid  quoque  Sedulins,  vel  quid  cauit  ipse  Juvencus, 

Alcinius  (?)  et  Clemens,  Prosper,  Paulinus,  Arator, 

Quid  Fortunatus,  vel  quid  Lnetantius  edunt. 

Quod  Maro  Virgilius,  Statiua,  Lucanus  et  Auctor : 

Artis  grammatieae  vel  quid  scripsere  magistri ; 

Quid  Probus  atque  Phocas,  Donatus,  Priscianusve, 

Scrvius,  Euticius,  Pompeius,  Comminianus. 

Invenies  alios  perplures,  lector,  ibidem 

Egregios  studiis,  arte  et  serinqne  magistros, 

Plurima  qui  claro  scripsere  volumina  sensu  : 

Nomina  sed  quorum  praesenti  in  carmine  scribi 

Longius  est  visiun  quam  plectri  postulet  usus.' 
Poemn  de  Pont.  Eccle*.  Eboracensia,  1535-1603.     Migne,  ci  843-4. 
1  The  other  author  is  Isidorua,  omitted  probably   on  account  of  the 
metrical  difficulty,  for  we  have  evidence  that  his  writings  were  well  known 
to  Alcuin. 


62 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


Ins  trans- 
lations of 
Aristotle 
known  to 
Alcuin. 


CHAP,  its  way  into  the  education  of  the  time.  His  adaptation  of 
_  /  _.  the  Arithmetic  of  Nicomachus ;  his  treatise  on  music ;  his 
translation,  with  some  trifling  additions,  of  the  first  four 
books  of  Euclid  ;  and  his  version  of  portions  of  Aristotle's 
Organon,  must  be  looked  upon  as  forming  the  basis  of  the 
highest  education  then  kuown.  Unfortunately  his  writings 
shared  in  the  fate  that  overtook  so  many  of  the  chief  lights 
Portions  of  of  Latin  literature.  Of  his  translation  of  the  Organon  the 
more  important  part,  including  the  Prior  and  Posterior 
Analytics,  the  Topica  and  the  Sophistici  Elenchi,  seems  to 
have  been  lost  to  learning  soon  after  his  death,  and  was  not 
recovered  until  the  twelfth  century.  The  Categories  them- 
selves disappeared  from  sight  for  some  centuries,  their  place 
being  supplied  by  a  meagre  Latin  abridgement,  falsely 
attributed  to  St.  Augustine  of  Hippo.  The  De  Interpretations 
accordingly  alone  remained,  and  this,  together  with  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Isagoge  of  Porphyry  by  Boethius,  and  some  of 
Boethius'  own  logical  treatises,  must  be  considered  to  have 
made  up  the  sum  of  the  Aristotelian  logic  known  to  the  age 
of  Alcuin.1  How  entirely  ignorant  that  age  was  of  Aristo- 
tle's ethical,  metaphysical,  and  scientific  treatises  it  is  un- 
necessary here  to  explain;  but  the  foregoing  comments  will 
suffice  to  shew  that  when  Alcuin  affirms  of  the  library  at 
York  that  it  contained 

Quae  .  .  .  scripsere  BoetiuB  .  .  .  ipse 
'    Acer  Aristoteles, 

his  statement  must  be  accepted  with  very  important  limita- 
tions. 

1  For  the  evidence  at  greater  length  see  my  History  of  the  University  of 
Cambridge,  pp.  27-29 ;  it  will  be  sufficient  here  to  quote  the  summary  of 
this  important  question  given  by  Prantl :  '  Kurz  also — urn  die  Abgranzung 
so  entschieden  und  deutlich  als  moglich  zu  wiederholen — es  b&steht  fiir 
dii'sen  ersten  Abschnitt  des  Mittelnlters  das  trnditionelle  Material  der  Loyik 
avwchliesslich  am  Folgendcm :  Mart.  Capella,  Augustin,  Pseudo-Augustin, 
Cassiodorus,  Boethius  ad  Porphyrium  a  Viet,  transl.,  ad  Porph.  a  se  transl., 
ad  Arist.  Catog. ;  ad  Arist.  De  Interpretation  (ed.  1  and  2),  ad  Ciceroni  s 
Topica,  Introd.  ad  Cat,  Syll.,  D.  Syll.  Cat.,  D.  Syll.  Hyp.,  De  Div.,  I). 
Detin.,  D.  Diff.  Top.  Hingegen  fehlt  die  Kenntniss  der  beiden  Analytiken, 
der  Topik,  und  der  Sophistici  ElencMfas  Aristotles.'  Prantl,  ii  4.  See  also 
some  observations  by  M.  Haure'au,  i  94 ;  also  Re,cherches  Critiques  sur  TAge. 
et  rOriyine  des  Tradnctions  Latines  d' Arist ote,  par  M.  A.  Jourdain.  1843. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE. 

The  De  Artilus  et  Disciplinis  liberabilium  litterarum  of 
Cassiodorus,  whom  Alcuin  also  names,  must  appear,  when 
compared  with  Boethius,  a  singularly  meagre  production. 
The  four  subjects  of  the  quadrivium — arithmetic,  geometry, 
music,  and  astronomy — are  each  dismissed  in  two  pages;  those  d.  568.' 
of  the  trivium  are  somewhat  more  fully  explained,  but  not  a 
spark  of  originality  relieves  the  treatise.  Prautl  animadverts 
upon  the  confusion,  shewn  in  the  discussion  of  the  ToVot,  of 
those  which  belong  to  rhetoric  and  those  proper  to  dialectic.1 
Nevertheless  it  is  to  this  writer  that,  up  to  the  thirteenth 
century,  students  in  the  Middle  Ages  were  indebted  for  their 
knowledge  of  the  Topics ;  for  in  Martianus  Capella  nothing 
is  to  be  found  on  this  division  of  logic,  and  Isidorus,  who 
gives  the  dialectical  TOTTOI,  appears  to  have  been  indebted  for 
them  to  the  undiscerning  industry  of  his  predecessor.2  With 
this  latter  writer  we  have  ample  evidence  that  Alcuin  was 
well  acquainted,  though  a  metrical  difficulty  appears  to  have 
excluded  the  name  from  his  enumeration  of  authors.  Isidorus  Isidorus, 
wa,s  a  Spanish  bishop  of  the  seventh  century ;  and  his  treatise,  ^  ^ ' 
entitled  Originum  seu  Etymologiarum  libri  xx,  was  perhaps  the 
most  popular  of  all  compendiums  of  school  knowledge  at  this 
time.  His  attainments  obtained  for  him  in  his  own  day  the 
reputation  of  being  the  most  learned  man  of  his  age.  Alcuin 
himself  styles  him  lumen  Hispaniae,  and  cites  him  as  an 
authority  among  the  doctors  of  the  Church  ;  but  we  can  have 
.no  more  convincing  proof  of  the  darkness  that  reigned  in  the 
kingdom  of  the  Visigoths,  notwithstanding  the  immunity 
that  Spain  then  enjoyed  from  political  commotion,  than  the 
fact  that  the  Origines  of  Isidorus  represents  its  maximum  of 
light.  The  work  is  a  kind  of  encyclopaedia,  in  20  books, 
of  such  information  as  still  survived  in  connexion  with  every 
subject,  whether  literature,  science,  or  religion.  In  as- 
tronomy his  attainments  enabled  him  to  state  that  the  sun 

1  I  give  this  statement  on  the  authority  of  PrantI ;  otherwise  it  is  well 
known  that  Aristotle  himself  considered  his  Rhetoric  to  be  closely  connected 
with  the  Topics  (Rhet.  II,  last  chapter).  Blakesley,  Life  of  Aristotle,  p.  144. 
Cassiodorus  appears  to  have  confounded  the  distinctive  elements  of  the  two 
subjects. 

3  PrantI,  i  724. 


64 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 


Martianus 
Capella 
(fl.  c.  424) 
•uriinen- 
tioiiocl. 


His 

allegorical 
treatment 
of  his 
suljject. 


was  bigger  than  either  the  moon  or  the  earth  ;  but  he  appears 
to  have  known  but  little  more,  and  the  illustration  may  serve 
to  shew  the  extreme  vagueness  of  his  scientific  knowledge. 
In  logic  he  would  seem  to  have  derived  his  information 
almost  entirely  from  -Cassiodorus,  much  as  Cassiodorus  had 
derived  his  from  Boethius. 

There  was  yet  another  text-book  Avhich,  notwithstand- 
ing the  completeness  of  the  library  at  York,  does  not  occur 
in  Alcuin's  enumeration ;  nor  can  we  regard  the  omission  as 
accidental,  for  the  book  was  one  which  there  is  good  reason 
for  supposing  he  would  never  have  placed  in  the  hands  of 
his  pupils.  Among  the  most  popular  writers  of  the  fifth 
century  was  Martianus  Capella,1  a  native  of  Carthage,  and  a 
teacher  of  rhetoric  in  the  schools  of  that  city  at  a  time  when 
their  reputation  was  at  its  highest.  Martianus  was  fully 
acquainted  with  the  Christian  tenets,  but,  unlike  his  fellow 
professors,  Arnobius  and  Orosius,  he  appears  to  have  inclined 
to  an  eclecticism  borrowed  from  the  yet  more  famous  schools 
of  Alexandria,  of  that  kind  with  which  the  names  of  Philo 
Judaeus,  Clemens,  and  Origen  are  associated — the  Platonic 
philosophy  in  attempted  harmony  with  Christian  doctrine. 
It  was  not  to  his  philosophic  teaching,  however,  that 
Martianus  was  indebted  for  his  wide-spread  and  enduring 
popularity.  His  lively  African  fancy  had  suggested  to  him 
the  idea  of  embodying  the  course  of  the  trivium  and  qim- 
drivium  in  an  allegorical  dress ;  he  is,  in  fact,  a  rival  claimant 
with  Augustine  for  the  honour  of  having  first  invented  that, 
time-honoured  division  of  the  sciences.  The  first  two  books 
of  Martianus  are,  accordingly,  entirely  occupied  with  a 
fantastic  story  of  the  marriage  of  Mercury  and  Philologia, 
or,  in  more  modern  phrase,  of  science  and  eloquence. 
Jupiter,  warned  by  the  oracles,  convenes  a  meeting  of  the 
gods,  and  demands  the  rights  of  naturalisation  for  one 
hitherto  but  a  mortal  virgin.  Mercury  then  assigns  to  his 

1  '  Marfiani  Minaei  Felicia  Capellae  Carthaginiensis  Viri  ProcomvJlaris 
Satyricon,  in  quo  de  Nuptiis  Philologiae.  et  Mercurii  libi-i  duo,  et  dc  Septem 
Artibus  lib^ralibus  libri  tiiiffulrrres.1  ed.  Eyssenhardt,  Lipsiae,  1866;  ed.  Kopp 
and  Hermann,  Frankfort,  1830. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  $5 

bride  seven  virgins  as  her  attendants,  each  of  whom  is  in     CHAP. 

turn  introduced  at  the  marriage  banquet,  and  descants  on         *'  ^ 

that  particular  branch  of  knowledge  denoted  by  her  name. 

The  humour  with  which  the  allegory  is  relieved  is  broad, 

and  occasionally  coarse;  but  it  hit  the  fancy  of  the  age. 

In  fact,  although  we  may  question  the  right  of  Martianus 

to  be  regarded  as  the  inventor  of  the  trivium  and  quadrivium, 

there  is  every  probability  that  it  was  mainly  owing  to  his 

fanciful  conception  that  they  were  so  faithfully  preserved 

in  the  traditions  of  mediaeval  education,  while  the  idea  is  Influence 

supposed  to  have   suggested  the  allegory  contained  in  a  toYiis1"* 

far  better  known  treatise,  the  De  Consolatione  of  Eoethius.  example. 

Wherever  pious  scruples  did  not  prevent,  the  work  became 

the  favourite  text-book  of  the  schools;  Gregory  of  Tours 

frankly  admits,  that  whatever  of  the  arts  or  sciences  was  to 

be  known  in  his  day  was  to  be  found  in  Martianus  Capella ; l 

it  was  translated  into   German  so   early  as  the  eleventh 

century  ;2  it  is  often  cited  even  by  so  late  and  discerning  a 

writer  as  John  of  Salisbury. 

Neither  the  allegory  nor  the  science  contained  in  the  Specula- 
pages  of  the  De  Nuptiis  would  have  led  to  the  suppression  of  ^e^of 
the  volume   on  the  part  of  the   teachers   at  York;    but  thetrea- 
Martianus   also  ventured  to  employ  his  fancy  within  the  txse* 
domain  of  religious  belief.     Of  the  two  Platonic  dialogues 
known  to  mediaeval  scholars,3  the  Timaeus,  as  preserved  in 
the  translation  of  Chalcidius,  offered  powerful  temptation  to 
the  speculative  mind ;  but  the  divine  of  the  eighth  century 
could  tolerate  no   scientific  theorisation  that  contravened 
that  of  the   inspired  volume,  and  the   cosmogony  of  the 
Timaeus  could  not  be  reconciled  with  that  of  the  Mosaic 

1  '  Quod  si  te,  sacerdos  Dei,  quicumque  es,  Martianus  noster  septem 
disciplinis  erudiit,  id  eat,  si  te  in  grammaticis  docuit  legere,  in  dialectics 
altercationum    propositioues    advertere,    in    rhetoricis    genera    metrorum 
agnoscere,  in  geometricis   terrarum  linearumque    mensuras    colligere,  in 
astrologicis  cursus  siderum  conteniplari,  in  arithmeticis  numerorum  partes 
colligere,  in  harmoniis  sonorum  modulationes  suavium  accentuum  carminibus 
concrepare.'    Greg.  Turon.  x  31. 

2  Wackernagel  (Altdeutsche^  Lesebuch,  p.  150)  gives  considerable  frag- 
ments of  this  version. 

8  The  other  was  the  Phaedo. 


66 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 


Mistrust 
with  which 
it  was  con- 
sequently 
regarded 
by  the 
teachers 
at  York. 


Their 
apprehen- 
sions not 
altogether 
without 
reason. 


narrative.  When  accordingly,  on  turning  the  pages  of 
Martianus,  the  faithful  followers  of  St.  Gregory  and  his 
doctrine  read  of  a  great  sphere  occupying  the  centre  of  the 
heavens,  the  Platonic  i&ea  of  the  world — of  a  race  of  beings 
permitted  for  a  time  to  assume  the  human  form,  to  mingle 
with  man  and  to  console  humanity,  returning  afterwards  to 
their  celestial  abodes — of  *  three  gods '  to  whom  the  writer 
professed  to  pay  special  worship,  but  whom  he  apparently 
regarded  as  simply  more  powerful  or  propitious  than  other 
and  pagan  divinities — their  feelings  were  much  the  same 
as  those  of  a  Christian  educator  of  youth  in  the  present  day, 
who  might  discover  lurking  in  the  pages  of  an  elementary 
treatise  on  natural  philosophy  the  most  advanced  conclusions 
of  modern  materialism.1 

Nor  can  it  be  any  matter  for  surprise  that  the  teachers 
at  York  were  keenly  alive  to  the  risks  attendant  upon 
teaching  of  such  a  character.  Christianity  was  still  a  tender 
plant  in  England,  in  some  parts  of  very  recent  growth. 
Bede,  in  his  boyhood,  must  often  have  heard  how  pagan 
sacrifice  was  still  offered  upon  the  altars  of  Sussex.  It  was 
natural  that  he  and  his  successors  should  prefer  to  give 
their  sanction  to  authors  calculated  rather  to  confirm  faith 
than  encourage  speculation.  So  far,  therefore,  from  its 
being  ^simply  fortuitous,  there  seems  to  be  good  reason  for 
regarding  it  as  a  fact  of  considerable  significance,  that 
throughout  the  writings  of  Alcuin  we  find  no  mention  of  the 
treatise  of  Martianus  Capella ;  that  the  book  is  similarly 
absent  in  a  catalogue  of  the  library  at  St.  Eiquier  in  the 
ninth  century2 — a  monastery  of  which  Angilbert,  Alcuin's 

1  It  is,  however,  but  just  to  recognise  the  fact  that  Capella's  speculative 
tendencies  are  supposed  to  have  furnished  the  hint  which  directed  Copernieua 
to  the  discovery  of  his  system.     In  his  eighth  chapter  he  points  out  that 
Mercury  and  Venus  revolve  not  round  the  earth  but  round  the  sun.   Delamhre 
observes  that,  if  this  observation  really  resulted  in  so  eminent  a  service  to 
science, '  nous  devons  lui  pardonuer  son  verbiage,  ses  bevues  et  son  galima- 
thias.'     See  edition  by  Kopp,  p.  806. 

2  A  library,  it  is  to  be  noted,  of  250  volumes.     (See  Spicilfgium  Acherii, 
ii  811.)  '  On  the  appearance  of  this  author  in  catalogues  of  the  eleventh  and 
twelfth  centimes  no  stress  can  be  laid,  as  he  had,  by  that  time,  become 
accepted  as  a  classic,  and  the  guardians  of  orthodoxy  found  their  attention 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  (JJ 

pupil,  was  abbat ;  while  its  presence,  along  with  the  works     CHAP. 

of  Origen,  in  the  catalogue  of  the  library  of  the  monastery  at  . *• , 

Bobbio,  at  the  same  period,  a  foundation  of  St.  Columban,  The 
and  one  maintaining  the  tradition  of  his  teaching,  may  be  anFe 
looked  upon  a.s  subsidiary  evidence  of  an  ascertained  fact,  senco  of 
that  a  different  school  of  thought  was  there  recognised  and  alik*  «ig- 
encouraged.  nificant 

In  thus  endeavouring  concisely  to  point  out  the  distinc-  influence 
tive   characteristics  of  the   school  treatises   which  Alcuin  £ftl^e. 
carried  with  him   across  the   Channel,  our  task  has  been  text-books 
one  of  something  more  than   merely  antiquarian  interest.  °°esu^ se 
As  text-books  of  instruction,   it  is  true,  Martiamis,  Boe-  learning, 
thius,  Cassiodorus,  and  Isidorus  have,  for  the  last  six  cen- 
turies, been    altogether  discarded,  but  their  influence    has 
lasted  to  the  present  day  ;  and  the  critic  and  historian  who 
should  affect  to   consider  the  theories   shadowed  forth  in 
these  writers,  and  the  speculative  or  conservative  tendencies 
respectively  discernible,  as  unworthy  of  serious  discussion, 
would  scarcely  be  wiser  than  the   naturalist  who  should 
think   it  trivial  to  regard  the  scarcely  perceptible  differ- 
ences that  sometimes  distinguish  the  seed  of  a  poisonous  or 
useless  plant  from  that  of  one  eminently  serviceable  to  man. 

At  the  time  that  Alcuin  made  good  his  promise  given  to  Favour 
Charles  at  Parma  he   was  in  his  forty-eighth  year,   the  ch^fo"** 
monarch  in  his  forty-first.     That  the  reception  accorded  to  regarded 
the  former  at  Aachen  was  in  every  way  calculated  to  inspire 
him  with  confidence  and  hope  admits  of  no  doubt.     Charles 
was   distinguished  by  the  favour  with  which  he  regarded 
guests  from  other  lands.   '  Amabat  peregrinos,'  says  Einhard ; 
who  indeed  adds,  that  the  number  of  these  at  court  often 
formed  an  appreciable  addition  to  the  demands  on  the  royal 
revenues.1     The  attraction  was,  however,  of  a  very  different 
kind  from  that  which  drew  the  pleasure-loving  Aquitanians 
to  the  court  of  Robert  Capet ;  and  the  encouragement  be- 
stowed equally  dissimilar  from  that  extended  by  Henry  in  or 

called   away  to    other    and    more    formidable    symptoms   of   heterodox 
teaching. 

1   Vita  Caroli,  c.  xxi ;  Carolina,  p.  528. 

F  2 


68  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP.  Edward  n  to  the  Poitevin  and  Anjevin  of  their  day.  Ifc  was 
._  _^  the  sympathy  of  a  truly  imperial  nature,  singularly  in- 
tolerant of  narrow  traditions  and  local  prejudices,  and 
keenly  alive  to  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from  intercourse 
with  minds  formed  under  other  conditions  and  reflecting  the 
Distrac-  results  of  different  experiences.  The  supposition  of  one  of 
time.  Alcuin's  biographers,  that  the  new  teacher  arrived  at  a 
juncture  when  cessation  from  warfare  enabled  Charles  to 
give  less  distracted  attention  to  the  promotion  of  learning, 
The  Saxon  seems  to  be  scarcely  in  harmony  with  the  facts.  In  the 
very  same  year  the  Saxons  broke  out  into  formidable  insur- 
rection,1 and  upwards  of  four  thousand  prisoners  were  mas- 
sacred by  the  incensed  monarch  on  the  banks  of  the  Aller ; 
while  for  more  than  four  years  after  his  arrival,  Alcuin 
must  have  been  constantly  hearing  of  sanguinary  conflicts 
on  the  Weser  and  the  Elbe.  Though  far  more  nearly  allied 
to  the  pagan  foe  than  to  the  Frank  by  race,  we  should 
hardly  expect  to  find  him  much  moved  at  the  sufferings 
and  gradual  subjugation  of  the  former.  The  instincts  of  the 
churchman  were  paramount,  and  Witikind  seemed  to  him 
only  another  Penda ;  but  though  he  regarded  the  conversion 
of  these  stubborn  Saxons  at  the  point  of  the  sword  as  well- 
nigh  an  indispensable  process,  it  is  evident  that  he  would 
gladly  have  seen  the  vigorous  policy  of  the  subjugator  com- 
bined with  something  more  of  mercy.2 

Question  ^  *s  a  spiking  illustration  of  Charles'  immense  energy 

of  the         and  activity,  that  amid  distractions  like  these  he  yet  found 

ex7s™nee     time  *°  welcome  his  new  instructor,  and  to  aid  him  in  im- 

of  the         parting  fresh  life  to  the  Palatine  school.    Whether,  as  some 

writers  have  maintained,  this  famous  school  dates  as  far 

back  as  the  time  of  Pepin-le-Bref,  or  even  to  that  of  the 

Merovingian  dynasty,  is  a  question  into  which  it  scarcely 

seems  necessary  here  to  enter.3     The  testimony  of  the  monk 

of   Angouleme  that,  before    the  time  of  Charles,   '  there 

1  Vita  Caroli,  c.  7.     Carolina,  p.  515. 

2  Migne,  c  142,  362. 

8  See,  on  this  point,  Pitra,  Hist,  de  S.  Leger,  ec.  2  and  3 :  also  passages 
quoted  in  favour  of  the  hypothesis  by  Ozanam,  pp.  462-3.  Also  L&>n 
Maitre,  p.  34 ;  Monnier,  pp.  62-3. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  (J9 

existed  in  Gaul  scarcely  a  trace  of  the  liberal  arts ' — Charles' 
own  explicit  declaration  that  *  the  study  of  letters  had  been 
well-nigh  extinguished  by  the  neglect  of  his  ancestors ' l — 
and  the  account  given  by  Einhard  of  the  sources  from  which 
the  monarch  himself  acquired  whatever  learning  he  pos- 
sessed— certainly  lend  no  countenance  to  such  an  hypothesis. 
As  little  do  we  find,  to  support  the  theory  of  a  kind  of 
Athenaeum  or  Academy,  composed  of  the  adult  members  of 
Charles'  court — '  le  rendez-vous  des  courtisans,des  conseillers, 
et  des  savants.'2  The  narrow  limits  of  the  studies  of  the 
time,  a  range  so  limited  that  a  Martianus  or  Isidorus  seemed 
a  sufficient  compendium  of  knowledge,  rather  make  it  pro- 
bable that  an  intelligent  youth  of  16  or  17,  receiving  that 
training  which  Charles  himself  had  not  received  in  his  early 
years,  must  soon  have  stood  on  a  level  with  the  best  scholars 
in  the  royal  court — Einhard,  perhaps,  alone  excepted.  For 
our  present  purpose  it  is  sufficient  to  be  able  safely  to  con- 
clude, that  Charles  regarded  the  restoration  of  letters  in  his 
empire  as  a  work  only  second  in  importance  to  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  empire  itself — that  with  this  view  he  assembled 
round  him  the  noble  youth  of  his  court,  destined  to  high 
office  and  Church  preferment,  to  form  the  Palace  School — 
that  this  school  accompanied  him  wherever  he  fixed  his 
court — that  he  obtained  for  it  the  instruction  of  the  ablest 
teacher  of  the  age — and  that,  whenever  the  affairs  of  state 
and  cessation  from  military  operations  permitted  (which  was 
chiefly  in  the  winter  time),  he  himself  was  wont,  along  with 
the  more  intelligent  of  his  courtiers,  to  take  his  seat  in  the 
midst  of  the  learners,  stimulating  their  ardour  by  his 
example,  and  gratifying  his  own  thirst  for  knowledge  by  dis- 
cussion and  enquiry.  In  the  manner  in  which  he  thus 
brought  his  personal  influence  to  bear  on  the  movement,  we 
recognise  one  all-important  fact — the  Palace  School  witnessed  lunoration 
the  first  considerable  innovation  on  the  Crreyorian  tradition.  Q°e^0erjan 
Had  Alcuiu,  on  his  first  arrival,  been  placed  at  the  head  of  tradition. 
the  monastery  at  Tours,  his  instruction  there,  it  is  easy  to 

1   Constitutio  de  emendatiane  Librorum,  etc.     Baluze,  i  204-5. 
8  Leon  Maitre,  p.  82. 


7Q  CHARLES  THE  GREAT   AND  ALCU1N, 

CHAP,     see,  would  have  been  confined  within  far  narrower  limits, 
, *1 .  But  the  circle  which  he  found  himself  called  upon  to  in- 
Character    struct  at  Charles'  court  craved  for  something  more  than  to 
members     learn  t°   chant,   read  Latin,   and   calculate  the  return  of 
Easter.     Ecclesiastics  or  lords  of  monasteries  though  some 
of  them  might  be,  they  were  also  statesmen,  courtiers,  and 
Practical     men  of  the  world.     Palgrave  has  justly  observed  that  in 
of  Charles'  ^nus  Pafaonising  learning  Charles'  purpose  was  quite  as  much 
designs.      to  benefit  the  state  as  dictated  by  any  abstract  apprecia- 
tion of  the  value  of  mental  culture ;  the  Greek  professorships, 
for  example,  which  he  sought  to  establish  at  Osnaburg  and 
Salzburg,  were  designed  for  the  practical  end  of  facilitating 
Charles'      intercourse  with  the  eastern  empire.1     With  respect  to  his 


own 


acquire-  own  acquirements,  the  circumstances  of  his  early  life,  the 
meuts.  character  of  his  genius,  and  the  explicit  testimony  of  his 
biographer,  alike  point  to  the  conclusion  that  they  repre- 
sented the  results  of  an  unusually  quick  perception  and  re- 
tentive memory  rather  than  of  laborious  application  and 
early  training.  His  knowledge  of  the  colloquial  Latin  of  the 
age  was  equal  to  that  of  his  native  German.  He  appears  to 
have  understood  Greek,  though  he  spoke  it  very  imperfectly. 
His  natural  facility  of  expression  was  such  that,  as  Einhard 
admits,  his  discourse  sometimes  bordered  on  loquacity.2  He 
had  acquired  when  young  some  knowledge  of  grammar  from 
Peter  of  Pisa,  but  whatever  he  knew  of  rhetoric,  logic,  or 
arithmetic  he  was  yet  to  gain  from  the  teaching  of  Alcuin.3 
He  aspired  to  master  the  art  of  penmanship ;  but,  says  his 
biographer,  his  efforts  in  this  respect,  '  commenced  too  late 
in  life,  were  attended  with  little  success ; J  4  nor  is  it  difficult  to 

1  Hist,  of  England  and  Normandy,  i  27-8.     Baluze,  i  418.     Charles' 
scheme  never  came  to  successful  accomplishment. 

2  '  Adeo  quidem  iacundus  erat,  ut  etiam  dicaculus  apparerat.'     Caroli 
Vita,  c.  25 ;  Carolina,  p.  531.     '  Dicaculus '  is  the  reading  accepted  by 
Diiminler,  and  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  this,  and  not '  didasculus/  is  the 
right  one. 

8  '  Li  discenda  grarainatica  Petrum  Pisatmra,  diaconum,  senem  audivit 
in  caeteris  disciplines  Albinum,  cognomento  Alcoiiium,  item  diaconum 
de  Britannia,  Saxonici  generis  hominem  .  .  .  praeceptorem  habtiit.'  Ibid. 

4  '  Sed  parum  successit  labor  praeposterus  ac  sero  inchoatus.'  Ibid.  The 
attempt  made  by  some  writers  (see  Einhard,  ed.  Teulet,  i  83)  to  shew  that 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  7! 

understand  that  the  royal  hand,  stiffened  with  oft-wielding  of     CHAP. 

the  good  sword  '  Joyeuse,'  may  have  refused  to  accommodate  . ^ , 

itself  to  the  most  painful  and  laborious  of  all  the  acquire- 
ments of  an  ordinary  education. 

The  regular  education  of  the  youth  of  the  Palace  School  Conditions 
was  derived  from  the  manuals  of  which  we  have  given  an  ™£™h 
account,  and,  as  regarded  extent  and  variety,  was  probably  Alcuin's 
a  simple  reproduction  of  that  which  Alcuin  had  himself  re-  ^ewwe 
ceived  at  York.     Of  all  living  scholars,  he  was  the  least  imparted, 
likely  to  introduce  innovations  upon  the  traditional  curriculum.    ^" 
When,  however,  the  circle  was  joined  by  Charles  and  the 
older  members   of    his    court,   the   instruction  necessarily 
assumed  a  different  form.      The  adult    mind   can  rarely 
master  knowledge  after  the  fashion  of  more  tender  years. 
That  wondrous  faculty  of  the  youthful  intellect  which  causes 
it  to  resemble  a  capacious  carpet  bag,  in  the  way  in  which  it 
receives,  and  retains  whatever  the  instructor  may  think  fit  to 
put  into  it,  disappears  as  the  judgement  becomes  matured. 
The  memory  then  refuses  to  burden  itself  with  facts  of  which 
it  apprehends  neither  the  importance  nor  the  connexion ; 
and  so  we  find  Charles  and  his  courtiers  plying  the  vates 
from  across  the  Channel  with  innumerable  questions,  often 
blundering    strangely    and    misapprehending    widely,    but    /•< 
forming  a  circle  which  even  at  this  lapse  of  time  it  is  im- 
possible   to   contemplate   without    interest: — the  monarch  Members 
himself,  in  the  ardour  of  a  long  unsatisfied  curiosity,  pro- 
pounding  queries  on  all  imaginable  topics — suggesting,  dis- 
tinguishing, disputing,  objecting, — a  colossal  figure,  gazing  Charles 
fixedly  with   bright  blue   eyes  on  his  admired  guest,  and 
altogether  a  presence  that  might  well  have  disconcerted  a 
less  assured  intellect.     Alcuin,  however,  holding  fast  by  his 


and  his 
sons. 


reference  is  here  intended  only  to  'the  art  of  calligraphy  as  practised  at  the 
monasteries,  will  scarcely  commend  itself  to  the  dispassionate  critic. 
Einhard  would  neve)'  have  been  content  to  designate  such  an  accomplish- 
ment by  the  single  word  '  scribeve ; '  nor  again,  if  Charles  had  once  acquired 
the  art  of  writing,  would  he  have  found  it  diflicult  to  improve  his  command 
of  it.  Some  lines  quoted  by  Leon  Maitre,  even  if  accepted  as  authoritative, 
would  fail  to  prove  that  the  corrections  of  the  MS.  referred  to  were  made  by 
Charles'  own  hand. 


72 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 

I. 


His  sister. 


His  wife, 
Liutgarda. 


His 

daughter. 

Angilbert. 


Adelhard 
and  Wala. 


Riculfus. 
Einhard. 
Fredegis. 


Names 
assumed 
by  mem- 
bers of  the 
Palace 
School. 


Boethius,  Cassiodorus,  and  Isidorus,  is  calm  and  self-pos- 
sessed; feeling  assured  that,  so  long  as  he  only  teaches  what 
'  Gregorius  summus '  and  *  Baeda  venerabilis'  believed  and 
taught,  he  cannot  go  very  far  wrong.  Around  him,  as  the  years 
went  by,  he  saw  successively  appear  the  three  royal  sons, 
born  in  rightful  wedlock  :  Charles,  the  future  ruler  of  Neu- 
stria  and  Austrasia ;  Pepin,  the  acknowledged  lord  of  Italy ; 
and  Lewis,  who  almost  from  his  cradle  had  worn  the  crown 
of  Aquitaine — the  graceful  young  athlete  and  mighty 
hunter,  his  mind  already  opening  to  that  love  for  learning 
which,  through  all  the  good  and  evil  of  his  chequered  life,  he 
cherished  so  fondly  in  later  years.  There,  again,  was 
Charles'  much  loved  sister,  Gisela,  abbess  of  Chelles,  who 
from  her  girlhood  had  renounced  the  world,  but  whom  the 
fame  of  the  great  teacher  drew  from  her  conventual  retire- 
ment. Thither  also  came  the  last  and  best-loved  of  Charles* 
wives,  Liutgarda,  of  the  proud  Alemannic  race,  hereafter  to 
prove  among  the  firmest  of  Alcuin's  friends ;  and  the  royal 
daughter,  Gisela,  whom  parental  affection  held  too  dear  for 
the  proudest  alliance.  There  too  was  Charles'  son-in-law 
Angilbert,  chiefly  distinguished  as  yet  by  his  fondness  for 
the  histrionic  art,  but  afterwards  the  saintly  abbat  of 
St.  Biquier.  There  too  were  the  royal  cousins,  the  half- 
brothers,  Adelhard  and  Wala,  whose  after  action  shook  the 
whole  fabric  of  the  Carolingian  empire — the  former  brought 
back  from  Corbey  to  mingle  again  with  the  court  life  which 
he  bad  shunned,  and  to  forget  Desiderata's  wrongs — the 
latter,  whose  fair  face  bespoke  his  Saxon  lineage,  restored 
from  a  mysterious  banishment  to  the  royal  favour.  There  too 
were  Biculfus,  destined  ere  long  to  fill  the  chair  of  St.  Boni- 
face and  rule  the  great  see  of  Mayence ;  Einhard,  the  royal 
biographer,  the  classic  of  the  ninth  century  ;  and  Fredegis, 
Alcuin's  youthful  countryman,  poet  and  philosopher,  not 
always  faithful  to  his  master's  teaching. 

It  appears  to  have  been  a  frequent  affectation,  in  mediaeval 
times,  for  distinguished  men  to  assume  a  literary  or  historic 
alias ; 1  and  to  this  custom  we  must  attribute  the  fact  that 

1  Palgruve,  i  277.  '  Soepo  familiaritas  nominis  immutationera  aolet 
fa  cere,  sirut  ipse  Domimis  Simoiieiu  mutavit  in  Pet-rum/  ia  Alcuin's  own 
observation  on  lie  practice.  Epist.  125;  Migne,  c  361. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  73 

Alcuin  usually,  in  his  correspondence,  addresses  the  members     CHAP, 
of  this  circle  under  another  name.    Charles'  second  name        *• 
would  seem  to  have  really  been  David ; l  and  this  fact  may 
account  for  the  assumption  of  Scriptural  names  by  some  of 
his    courtiers.      Pepin    was    Julius;    Gisela    (the    sister), 
Lucia ;  Gisela  (the  daughter),  Delia ;  Liutgarda  was  Ava ; 
Adelhard  was  Antony ;    Wala,  Arsenius ; 2  Einhard,   with 
reference,  as  M.  Teulet  conjectures,  to  his  destined  state  avo- 
cation, was  Beseleel ;  Biculfus,  Flavius  Damoetas ;  Rigbod, 
Machairas  ;  Angilbert,  Homer ;  Fredegis,  Nathanael. 

For  the  most  part,  it  is  evident  that  Alcuin  regarded  with  Alcuin's 
genuine  admiration  the  intense  and  untiring  energy  of  the  of  Charles. 
royal  intellect ; 3  he  averred,  indeed,  that  were  his  subjects 
like  him,  all  Frankland  would  become  a  second  Athens. 
Sometimes,  however,  he  found  it  necessary  to  suggest  to  the 
victorious  warrior  that  the  domain  of  knowledge,  unlike  the 
wide  realm  over  which  the  latter  ruled,  could  never  become 
an  autocracy.  Charles  occasionally  indulged  in  expressions 
which  seemed  to  betray  a  contrary  notion — an  idea  that  an 
immortal  genius  might  be  made  to  appear  at  his  behest, 
much  as  a  new  province  had  often  been  added  to  his  empire 
by  the  sword.  *  Why/  he  exclaimed  on  one  occasion,  '  why 
have  I  not  twelve  of  my  clergy  as  learned  as  Jerome  or 
Augustine  ? '  The  devout  ecclesiastic  was  scandalised  at  such 
immoderation  of  desire.  '  The  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth/  he 
rejoined,  '  has  but  two  such,  and  thou  wouldst  have  twelve ! ' 

That  Alcuin's  duties  were  both  trying  and  onerous  can  His  post  a 
hardly  be  doubted,  embracing  as  they  did  the  instruction  of  laborious 
the  monarch,  the  courtier,  and  the  youthful  members  of  the 

1  Palgrave,  i  149.  If  this  were  the  case,  we  may  safely  assume  that  the 
name  had  been  bestowed  upon  him  in  the  sense  in  which  it  is  erroneously 
explained  by  Isidorus — 'fortis  mauu,  quia  fortissimus  in  praeliis  fait' 
(Etymologiae,  bk.  viii) — rather  than  from  a  knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  the 
Hebrew. 

8  The  same  name,  it  is  to  be  noted,  that  is  given  to  Wala  in  the  singular 
contemporary  sketch  of  his  political  career  discovered  by  Mabillon.  See 
Epitaphium  Arsenii,  by  Paschasius  Radbertus.  Palgrave,  i  275-7 ;  Alcuin, 
Epist.  125 ;  Migne,  c  361. 

3  '  Cujus  mentis  miranda  est  nobilitas,  duni  inter  tantas  palatii  curas  et 
regni  occupationea  philosophoriun  pleniter  curavit  arcana  scire  mysteria, 
quod  vix  otio  torpeus  alius  quis  niodo  cognoscere  studet.'  Note  suffixed  to 
Carmen  Elegiucum,  Migne,  ci  649. 


74 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


Advan- 
tages 
under 
•which  he 
taught. 


Alcuin  not 
a  philo- 
sopher. 


His 

reputation 
as  a  gram- 
marian. 


Palace  School.  He  was  like  the  original  settler  clearing  an 
open.space  in  some  virgin  forest,  and  compelled  to  bestow  no 
small  amount  of  preliminary  toil  in  removing  the  wild 
growths  of  centuries,  before  he  breaks  up  the  ground  and 
sows  the  seed.  On  the  other  hand,  he  had  the  counter- 
balancing advantage  of  being  bound  by  no  traditions  save 
those  of  the  great  doctors  of  the  Church,  whom  he  could  in- 
terpret as  his  private  judgement  dictated.  No  predecessor 
in  the  Palace  School — if  indeed  the  school  can  be  held  to 
have  had  a  previous  existence — had  already  opened  up  a  path 
which  Alcuin  might  have  found  it  equally  difficult  to  follow 
or  to  desert.  Holding  as  he  did  the  very  keys  of  knowledge, 
his  statements  and  explanations  were  received  with  un- 
questioning deference.  The  dicta  of  Pythagoras  himself 
obtained  not  more  deferential  assent.  It  is  remarkable, 
considering  how  completely  he  rested  upon  authority,  that 
he  very  rarely  deems  it  necessary  to  cite  an  author  when 
giving  his  decision. 

That  he  possessed  so  little  aptitude  for  philosophy  was  a 
serious  drawback  to  his  efficiency  as  a  teacher,  but  it  must, 
we  think,  be  looked  upon  as  a  matter  for  congratulation  that 
he  stood  identified  with  no  philosophic  school.  He  was 
neither  a  Platonist  nor  an  Aristotelian.  An  able  writer  has 
indeed  asserted  that  Alcuin  was  nothing  more  than  a 
grammarian  ;  l  and  it  was  in  this  capacity  that  his  reputation 
undoubtedly  stood  highest  even  with  his  contemporaries. 
Notkerus,  writing  a  century  later,  asserts  that  Alcuin's  ex- 
positions of  this,  the  first  stage  of  the  trivium,  were  so 
masterly,  that*  Donatus, Nicomachus, and  Priscian  dwindled 
into  insignificance  when  compared  with  him.5  *  Fortunately, 
the  treatise  is  still  extant,  and  we  are  consequently  able  to 
ascertain  its  precise  value.  The  form  into  which  the  instruc- 
tion is  thrown,  that  of  the  dialogue,  alone  suffices  to  suggest 
the  mental  status  of  the  majority  of  his  pupils.  The  cate- 

1  Haur^au,  pp.  125-6. 

8  'Albinus  talem  grammaticam  condidit,  ut  Donatus,  Nicomachus, 
Dositheus,  et  noster  Priscianus,  in  ejus  comparatione  nikil  ease  -videantur ' 
(quoted  Migne,  ci  849).  "With  M.  Haureau, '  nous  trouvons  que  Notker  le 
Begue  exagere  1'eloge.' 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  75 

chetical  method  has  generally  been  found  the  best  adapted  to 
the  beginner,  and  many  of  Alcuin's  pupils,  whether  as  regards 
power  of  comprehension  or  actual  knowledge,  could  only  have 
been  relegated,  in  any  school,  to  the  first  or  most  elementary 
class. 

The  dialogue  on  Grammar  is  carried  on  between  two  His  in- 
youths  !  —  the  one  a  Saxon,  the  other  a  Frank  —  respectively  16 
and  15  years  of  age  ;  the  Saxon,  as  the  elder,  being  accredited  . 
with  the  larger  share  of  knowledge,  and  replying  to  the  School. 
queries  of  the  younger  ;  while  the  master,  in  whose  presence 
the  dialogue  is  carried  on,  occasionally  comes  to  his  aid  when 
the  answer  is  beyond  his  ability.  M.  Mourner  conjectures 
that  it  was  Alcuin's  design  to  exhibit  Frankish  ingenuity 
and  '  esprit  '  in  contrast  to  Saxon  stolidity  ;  and  it  is  evident 
throughout  that  the  questioner  has  the  advantage  in  the 
opportunity  afforded  for  raillery  and  wit,  the  respondent 
being  anxious  rather  to  establish  a  reputation  for  accuracy, 
and  apparently  somewhat  inclined  to  resent  a  too  pertinacious 
sounding  of  the  depths  of  his  knowledge.  It  is  especially  Fore- 
worthy  of  remark  that,  at  the  very  outset,  the  writer  of  the*" 


designates  the  dialogue  as  a  disputatio  ;  and  we  can  have  no 
difficulty  in  recognising,  as  it  were  in.  embryo,  the  opponent  tion.' 
and  respondent  of  the  famous  contests  of  the  schools.  The 
contest,  however,  it  will  be  observed,  had  not  as  yet  assumed 
a  dialectical  form,  the  scholastic  developement  of  the  Aristote- 
lian logic  being  still  undreamt  of,  but  appears  in  its  more 
elementary  stage  as  an  intellectual  trial  of  strength  between 
two  combatants. 

*  Grammar  '  having  been  first  of  all  defined  as  the  *  scientia 
littera,lis,'  2  the  Frank  commences  by  asking  the  Saxon  why 
'  littera  *  is  so  called  ?     '  I  suppose/  replies  the  latter,  *  littera  The  letter 
is  the  same  as  legitera,  inasmuch  as  it  forms  the  path  of  the  definecl- 
reader.'     The  Frank.     (  Give  me  its  definition.'     The  Saxon. 
'  A  letter  is  the  smallest  part  of  an  articulate  sound  '  (  vocis}. 

1  Migne,  ci  850-902. 

8  la  obedience  to  the  precept  preserved  in  Boethius  :  '  Dicendi  ac  dispu- 
tandi  prima  semper  oratio  est,  et  jam  dialecticis  autoribus  et  ipso  M.  Tullio 
aaepius  admonente,  quae  dicitur  definitio.'  De  Divisione,  Opera,  p.  C48. 


76 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 


The 
syllable. 


Strange 
blunders. 


Limita- 
tions with 
•which  the 
termgram- 
matica,  was 
employed 
by  Alcuin. 


The  Frank.  *  Master,  has  not  Utter  a  another  definition  ? ' 
The  Master.  '  It  has,  but  one  identical  in  meaning.  The 
letter  is  the  individual :  for  we  divide  sentences  into  clauses 
(paries),  words  into  syllables,  syllables  into  letters ;  but  letters 
cannot  be  divided.' 

In  the  conversation  on  the  syllable  we  learn  that  it  has 
three  accents — the  acute,  the  grave,  the  circumflex;  two 
breathings,  hard  and  soft ;  quantity,  two  short  syllables  being 
equivalent  to  one  long ;  and  number,  according  to  the  letters 
of  which  it  is  composed.  Then  the  master  enunciates  an 
imposing  definition  of  grammar :  *  Grammar  is  the  science 
of  letters,  the  guardian  of  language  and  of  a  correct  style. 
It  is  founded  on  nature,  reason,  authority,  and  usage.  It 
is  divided  into  26  "  species  ;  "  to  wit,  words,  letters,  syllables, 
clauses,  sayings  (dictiones),  speeches,  definitions,  feet,  accents, 
punctuations  (posituras),  critical  marks  (notas),  orthographies, 
analogies,  etymologies,  glosses,  differences  (differentiae),  bar- 
barisms, solecisms,  faults,  metaplasins,  schemata,  tropes, 
prose,  metre,  fables,  and  histories.' 

Throughout  the  whole  discourse  the  instructor  leans 
heavily  on  Donatus  and  Priscian;  wherever,  indeed,  he 
attempts  a  less  technical  definition  or  explanation,  the  result 
is  seldom  to  render  matters  clearer.  The  master's  definition 
of  the  noun,  for  instance,  confounds  it  with  the  adjective : 
'  its  function,'  he  says,  '  is  to  declare  substance,  quality,  or 
quantity.'  The  Saxon  pupil  goes  yet  further  astray ;  a  noun, 
he  says,  *  is  that  part  of  speech  which  assigns  to  everybody  or 
thing  its  common  or  its  distinctive  quality.'  Evidently  dis- 
satisfied, however,  with  this,  he  appeals  again  to  the  master, 
who  attempts  another  definition,  with  somewhat  better  suc- 
cess, declaring  that  the  noun  is  'vox  significativa,' '  definition 
aliquid  significans  ; '  and  he  then  lets  fall  the  pregnant  ob- 
servation, that  *  there  is  but  one  substance,  and  that  it  is  only 
names  that  differ.'1 

But  by  far  the  most  significant  feature  in  the  dialogue 
are  the  limitations  within  which  the  subject  itself  is  restricted, 
as  compared  with  that  wide  conception  of  the  study  that 
1  '  Una  eat  substantia,  sod  di versa  nomiiia.'  Migne,  ci  859. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  77 

prevailed  among  the  grammatici  of  the  third  and  fourth  cen- 
turies. The  grammarian  of  the  imperial  schools,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  was  also  the  professed  instructor  in  the  critical 
study  of  the  great  poets  and  orators  of  antiquity.  Even  in 
Martianus  we  find  the  ars  grammatica  defined  as  the  art 
which  taught  not  merely  docte  scribere  legereque,  but  also 
erudite  intelligere  probareque.  But  ever  since  the  voice  of 
the  Church  had  declared  against  the  function  of  the  gramma- 
ticusy  its  profession  among  the  Christian  community  had 
become  rarer  and  rarer ; l  while  ever  since  the  time  of 
Gregory  the  Great,  the  original  interpretation  of  the  study 
had  dwindled  to  nothing  more  than  a  technical  knowledge  of 
the  Latin  language.  Cassiodorus,  who  penned  his  definition 
about  the  time  that  Gregory  was  born,  says,  grammatica  est 
peritia  pulchre  loquendi  ex  poetis  illu£tribus  oratoribusque 
collecta*  a  definition  which  Gregory  not  unsuccessfully 
laboured  to  set  aside.  Among  those  who  in  his  day  still  up- 
held the  traditional  conception  was  Didier,  the  archbishop 
of  Vienne.  It  appears  that  he  even  ventured  to  give  in- 
struction in  harmony  with  that  conception,  but  was  sternly 
called  to  account  by  the  papal  remonstrance.  The  letter  is 
still  extant 3  in  which  Gregory  expresses  his  concern  '  that 
you,  my  brother,  give  instruction  in  grammar ;  '  '  inasmuch 
as,'  he  adds,  '  the  praises  of  Christ  cannot  be  uttered  by  the 
same  tongue  as  those  of  Jove.' 4 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  add  that  Alcuin's  view  is  in  ac- 
cordance with  that  of  Gregory,  and  that,  while  admitting  that 
*  fables  and  histories '  (the  poets  and  the  historians)  belong 
to  the  subject  under  discussion,  he  scrupulously  abstains  from 
dwelling  on  this  aspect  of  the  study.  His  treatment,  indeed, 
is  guardedly  technical  and  limited ;  while  following  Donatus 

1  Of  this  the  rarity  of  Christian  monumental  inscriptions  whereon  the 
name  is  described  as  that  of  a  grammaticus  is  significant  evidence.  Passionei 
{Iscrmoni  antiche,  Lucca,  1763,  p.  115)  gives  one  rare  exception. 

2  Migne,  Ixix  1162. 

3  Epitst.  n  54. 

4  Guizot  here  observes, '  Je  ne  sais  trop  ce  que  les  louanges  de  Dieu  ou 
de  Jupiter  pouvaient  avoir  a  de"meler  avec  la  gmmmaire  '  (ii  120).    It  will 
"be  seen  that  his  observation  arises  from  a  misapprehension  with  respect  to 
the  sense  in  which  the  term  was  originally  employed. 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

and  Prisciau,  he  gives  ample  evidence  that  these  writers 
were  but  imperfectly  comprehended :  and  it  is  mainly  as  an 
illustration  of  the  educated  intelligence  of  the  time  that  the 
treatise  can  be  regarded  as  possessing  any  literary  value. 
The  task  of  classification  and  definition  seems,  as  yet,  to 
have  been  almost  beyond  the  strength  of  the  unpractised 
intellect;  and,  as  Monnier  observes,  the  mind,  bewildered 
by  the  multiplicity  of  phenomena,  and,  unable  to  distinguish 
between  the  substance  and  its  manifestations,  often  designa- 
ted the  former  by  the  manifestations  themselves. 
Alcuin's  Another  notable  illustration  of  the  state  of  culture  at 

onTrtho-  ^^s  period  is  afforded  in  Alcuin's  treatise  appended  to  that 
graphy.  on  Grammar,  entitled  De  Orthographia,1  designed  chiefly  as 
a  kind  of  Antibarbarus  or  enumeration  of  words  in  frequent 
use  especially  liable  to  be  misspelt.  The  transitional  state 
of  the  Latin  language  at  this  period  invests  these  instructions 
\7alue  with  a  certain  philological  interest.  In  the  ordinary  speech 
of  his  of  Neustria  and  Aquitaine,  Latin  had  conquered  Celtic  and 
now  found  itself  confronted  by  Tudesque.  The  lingua  Romana, 
of  which  the  earliest  specimen  extant  belongs  to  half  a  cen- 
tury later,  was  only  in  process  of  formation  ;  and  the  pro- 
nunciation of  words  was  singularly  perplexed  and  uncertain. 
Alcuin  accordingly  finds  it  necessary  to  distinguish  not  only 
b  from  v  (which  are  to  be  found  confused  so  early  as  the 
fourth  century),  but  also  from  u  and  from  /.2  If  you  mean 
wool,  he  says,  you  must  write  vellus;  if  handsome,  bellus;  if 
a  heap,  ac&rvus;  if  cruel,  acerbus;  if  a  reed,  avena;  if  a  rein, 
habena;  the  Abari  are  not  necessarily  avari.  The  conjunc- 
tion '  or '  is  vel;  gall  is  fel;  the  name  of  the  heathen  deity 
(idolum)  BcL  He  tells  us  that /resembles  in  shape  the  letter 
known  as  the  digamma ;  but  as  the  sound  of  that  letter  was 

1  Migne,  ci  902-919. 

2  The  disappearance  of  the  b  in  many  words  appears  to  have  been 
effected  by  its  transmutation  into  a  v ;  the  v  becoming  in  turn  absorbed  in  a 
preceding  or  following  vowel  or  diphthong.     Ampere  observes  that  in  the 
ancient  language  we  find  boivre  instead  of  loire ;  the  v  representing  the 
second  b  in  bibere,  just  as  the  v  in  re§oivre  (for  recevoir)  represents  the  p  in 
reciptre.    Hist,  de  la  formation  de  la  langue  frongaise  (ed.  1869),  p.  248. 
Of.  Roby,  Latin  Gram,  i  410. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  79 

more  accurately  represented  by  the  letter  v,  it  was  decided 
to  write  votum,  virgo,  instead  of  fotum,  firgo.  It  is  question- 
able whether  he  himself  did  not  pronounce  albus  and  alvus 
alike ;  for  he  observes  that  when  you  mean  ventrem  you 
must  write  it  with  u  digammon  ;  when  the  colour,  with  a  6. 
The  following  distinction  would  seem  to  shew  that  the 
Teutonic  vagueness  in  the  pronunciation  of  the  terminal  d 
led  to  a  similar  confusion  of  that  letter  with  t :  '  Quot, 
quando  numerus  est,  per  t :  quando  pronomen  per  d  scriben- 
dum  est.'  *  Some  of  his  derivations,  with  their  explanations, 
are  amusing :  '  Magister,  major  in  statione ;  nam  isteron 
Graece  statio  dicitur.'  '  Veniunt,  qui  vendunt ;  veneunt,  qui 
venduntur.'  He  speaks  of  a  verb  sero,  seras,  seravi,  meaning 
to  shut,  and  he  derives  it  from  sera,  i.e.  vesper  a;  for  the 
gates  of  a  city  are  shut  late  in  the  day,  i.e.  at  nightfall,  and 
hence  the  bars  with  which  they  are  closed  are  called  serae  ! 

On  the  much  disputed  question  with  respect  to  the  amount 
of  Greek  scholarship  that  existed  in  England  at  this  period,  ^te"t  °£ 
Alcuin's  writings  afford  valuable  evidence ;  and  that  evidence  scholar- 
must  be  considered  conclusive  against  any  high  estimate.  The  shlp* 
mediaeval  tendency  to  exaggerate  the  acquirements  of  great 
teachers,  and  to  magnify  a  very  slender  acquaintance  with 
any  branch  of  learning  not  included  in  the  trivium  or  qua- 
drivium  into  a  mastery  of  the  subject,  together  with  a  too 
literal  acceptance  of  such  exaggerations,  have  led  not  a  few 
modern  writers  to  infer  that  the  attainments  of  the  scholars 
of  this  period  were  far  beyond  what  we  know  the  oppor- 
tunities and  culture  of  the  times  would  render  probable. 
That  Theodorus  himself  possessed  a  competent  knowledge  of 
Greek  literature  is  beyond  question,  and  though  the  testi- 
mony of  Lambarde  and  the  conclusions  of  archbishop  Parker 
are  open  to  considerable  doubt,2  it  is  highly  probable  that 

1  Ampere  observes  that  in  old  French  they  wrote  verd  for  vert ;  tart  for 
tard;  grant  for  grand,  parlad  las  pariat.  Hist,  de  Information  de  la  langue 
fran^mse  (ed.  1869),  p.  244. 

8  '  The  reverend  father  Matthew,  now  archbishop  of  Canterbury  (whose 
care  for  the  conservation  of  monuments  can  never  be  sufficiently  commended), 
shewed  me,  not  long 'si nee,  the  Psalter  of  David  and  sundry  Homilies  in 
Greek,  Homer  also  and  some  other  Greek  authors,  beautifully  written 
on  thick  paper  with  the  name  of  this  Theodore  prefixed  in  the  front,  to  whose 


80 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 

Tradition 
of  Greek  in 
England. 


Bede's 
testimony. 


Aleuin's 

Greek 

quotations 

mostly 

from 

Jerome. 


Inaccurate 

Greek 

forms. 


his  influence  was  successfully  exerted  to  promote  the  study 
of  the  Greek  language  in  England.  Bede,  long  afterwards, 
gives  testimony  that,  as  the  result  of  the  archbishop's  efforts, 
there  were,  in  his  (Bede's)  day,  scholars  still  living  '  as  well 
versed  in  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues  as  in  their  own  in 
which  they  were  born,' l  among  whom  the  most  eminent 
appears  to  have  been  Albinus.  But  although  we  may 
readily  allow  that  Theodoras  spoke  with  facility  the  language 
of  his  native  Tarsus,  the  Greek  of  the  Septuagint  and  the 
New  Testament,  and  may  be  willing  to  believe  that  during 
the  interval  between  his  death,  in  690,  and  that  of  Bede,  in 
735,  efforts  were  made  to  promote  Greek  learning,  the  evi- 
dence of  its  having  become  a  permanent  study  at  York  is 
altogether  wanting.  The  very  words  of  Bede,  '  still  living/ 
would  seem  to  belong  to  a  description  of  an  acquirement 
already  on  the  wane ;  and  over  against  the  presumption  that 
Alcuin  had,  as  the  foremost  scholar  at  that  seat  of  learning, 
been  one  of  the  few  who  still  represented  its  tradition,  we 
necessarily  place  the  evidence  afforded  by  his  works. 

With  respect  then  to  the  numerous  quotations  from  the 
Greek  to  be  found  in  Aleuin's  writings,  we  observe  that 
nearly  all,  if  not  all,  are  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  St. 
Jerome,  the  great  interpreter  between  the  Christian  litera- 
ture of  the  East  and  that  of  the  West.  These  quotations 
are,  as  we  should  expect  to  find,  correctly  given ;  but  when- 
ever Alcuin  attempts  an  independent  display  of  Greek  learn- 
ing he  generally  blunders  egregiously.  It  is  not  simply  that  he 
gives  specimens  of  his  scholarship  of  no  greater  value  than  the 
following:  'Hippocrita  Graece,  in  Latino,  simulator.  Hippo 
enim  Graece  falsum,  chrisis  judicium  interpretatur.' 2  False 
etymologies  are  to  be  found  in  the  writings  of  better 
Greek  scholars  than  Alcuin ;  but  the  erroneous  form  of  the 
nominative  is  far  more  suspicious,  especially  when  considered 
in  connexion  with  the  fact  that  whenever  he  gives  us  a 

library  he  reasonably  thought  (being  thereto  led  by  show  of  great  antiquity) 
that  they  sometime  belonged.'    Lambarde,  Perambulation  of  Kent  (1676), 
233  (quoted  in  Edwards'  Memoirs  of  Libraries,  i  101). 
>  JEcdes.  Hist.  bk.  iv,  c.  2.  3  Migne,  ci  910. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  TEIE  PALACE. 

Greek  nominative,  it  appears,  as  often  as  not,  with  an  in- 
correct termination.  M.  Haureau  very  pertinently  asks  how 
it  is  that  Alcuin,  if  he  really  knew  Greek,  gives  us  the  Greek 
names  for  the  Categories  so  incorrectly  ;  and,  along  with  the 
latest  editors  of  his  works,  calls  attention  to  the  fact  that  the 
few  Hebrew  words  that  occur  in  the  commentaries  on  Genesis 
and  Eeclesiastes  are  also  all  to  be  found  in  Jerome.1 

Of  the  uncritical  facility  with  which  even  well-informed  niustra- 
writers  have   accredited  the  scholars  of  these  times   with  0™nf^m0f 
attainments  not  merely  out  of  proportion  to  the  learning  of  superficial 
the  age  but  in  themselves  in  the  highest  degree  improbable,  ^ation^ 
we  have,  in  connexion  with  Alcuin,  more  than  one  notable  *he  karn- 
exainple.      The   following   may    serve   as    an    illustration,  period. 
M.  Ozanain,  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic  panegyrists  of  the 
men  and  learning  of  these  centuries,  lays  considerable  stress 
on  the  fact  that  Alcuin,  in  one  of  his  letters,  is  to  be  found 
advising  Angilbert  to  correct  a  copy  of  the  Psalter  by  the 
aid  of  the  text  of  the  Greek  Septuagint.2     On  a  prima  facie 
view  of  this  assertion,  and  with  every  disposition  to  augur 
favourably  of  the  attainments  of  a  son-in-law  of  Charles  the 
Great  and  the  father  of  Nithard,  the  historian,  we  must  con- 
fess that  a  task  of  this  description  appears  hardly  consonant 
with  what  we  know  of  Angilbert's  acquirements  and  cha- 
racter.    In  his  younger  years  he  was  distinguished  by  his 
passion  for    what,   in   modern  phrase,   would    be    termed 
'  theatricals  ' — a  feature  which  Alcuin  (with  whom  he  was  a 
special  favourite)  regarded  with  concern.     When  Charles' 
son  Pepin  went  to  rule  in  Italy,  Angilbert  went  with  him  as 
his  mayor  of  the  palace.     During  his  residence  in  Italy,  the 
latter  was  attacked  by  a  serious  illness,  which  he  construed 
into  a  mark  of  the  divine  displeasure  ;  and  shortly  afterwards, 
in  the  year  790,  he  retired  to  the  venerable  monastery  of 
St.  Riquier,  '  Centulla  of  the  hundred  towers.'     There,  in  his 
capacity  of  abbat,  he  exchanged  his  passion  for  plays  for  an 
equally  fond  devotion  to  music  ;  and  it  became  the  boast  of 
St.  Eiquier  that  the  voice  of  sacred  song  was  never  silent 

1  De  la  philosophic  scholu&tique  (ed.  1872),  i  126. 
9  Ozanam,  p.  621, 

G 


£2  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP,     within  her  walls.     A  poem  attributed  to  Angilbert  by  Pertz, 

, ^ ,  and  written  during  this  period  of  his  life,  evinces  a  like  love 

of  ornament  and  splendour.     It  is  scarcely  therefore  at  the 
hands  of  Angilbert  that  we  should  be  inclined  to  look  for  the 
performance  of  a  labour  such  as  that  to  which  Ozanam  refers. 
But  the   fact  is   that,  on  further    enquiry,  the  statement 
appears  to  be  entirely  without  foundation.     On  turning  to 
the  letter  in  question,1  we  find  that  Angilbert  had  consulted 
Alcuin  with  respect  to  the  preferable  mode  of  writing  certain 
Latin  words;  as,  for  example,  whether  one  ought  to  write 
dispexeris   or   despexeris.      Alcuin,    in    reply,  falls  back  on 
authority,  and  refers  to  Priscian,  who  says,  rightly  enough, 
that  such  difficulties  are  often  to  be  decided  by  reference  to 
the  corresponding  Greek  word,  and  ascertaining  whether  the 
preposition  there  used  is  that  for  which  the  Latin  dis-  is  the 
accepted  equivalent,  or  whether  that  rendered  by  de-.     After 
giving  a  series  of  examples,  he  goes  on  to  sa,y,  *  as  I  have 
before  observed,  we  must  see  what  preposition  would  be  re- 
quired in  Greek,   and  from  thence  decide  which  is  to  be 
used  in   Latin  ;  inasmuch  as  the  doubt  admits    of  being 
solved  by  reference  to  the  former  language.     Habet  enim 
in  Graeco  ille  versus  :  "  Exaudi,  Deus,  orationem  meam  et  ne 
despexeris  precationem  meam,"  'Evconorat,  6  ©eoy,  rrjv  Trpo<r- 
ev%jjv  /uou,  KOI  /AT)  vTrept&ys  TTJV  B&TJGIV  (tov.     (Psalm  liv  2.)  ' 
Other  examples  from  the  Septuagint,  taken   from  Jerome, 
follow  ;  and  the  Commentary  on  the  Epistle  to  Titus  by  the 
same  Father  is  quoted  (in  itself  a  suspicious  circumstance) 
for  an  observation  on  the  force  of  the  prepositions  irepl  and 
tcard.     But  as  for  a  collation  of  the  Latin  Psalter  with  the 
Septuagint,  or  advising  Angilbert  to  undertake  such  a  task, 
not  a  word  occurs  either  in  this  letter  or  in  any  one  of  the 
three  others,  still  extant,  addressed  by  Alcuin  to  *  Homerus.' 
Aicnin's  The  attempt  to  enliven  the  treatise  on  Grammar  by  a 

to'amuse     somewhat  forced  attempt  at  humour  (an  idea  not  improbably 
his  scho-     derived  from  Martianus  Capella)  cannot  be  pronounced  very 
successful,  but  it  is  a  significant  sign  of  the  intellectual  level 
of  the  students  for  whose  benefit  the  work  was  designed. 
'  Epist.  27.    (Migne,  c  180-184.) 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  83 

The  younger  members  of  the  Palace  School  seem  to  have  re-     CHAP, 
quired  to  be  at  ouce  instructed  and  amused,  much  after  the  ^     *•    ^ 
way  that  would  now  seem  well  adapted  to  a  night-school  of 
Somersetshire  rustics  j  while  Alcuin's  knowledge  of  Greek 
can  scarcely  be  supposed  to  have  exceeded  that  of  an  in- 
telligent schoolboy  well  on  in  his  First  Delectus. 

Our  estimate  of  Alcuin's  acquirements  as  a  grammarian, 
the  branch  of  learning  in  which  his  superiority  was  most 
unquestioned,  differs,  as  will  be  seen,  considerably  from  that 
of  Notkerus  ;  it  will,  however,  compare  favourably  with  that 
which  the  facts  compel  us  to  form  respecting  his  attainments 
in  some  other  branches  of  the  trivium  and  quadrivium.    In  ills  Ehe- 
the  treatise  on  Rhetoric,1  which  stands  next  in  his  Opera 
didascalica,  and  was  composed  on  his  return  from  England 
in  793,  he  gives  us  what  purports  to  be  a  dialogue  between 
the  monarch  and  himself.     It  need  scarcely  be  said  that  no 
attempt  at  drollery  like  that  in  the  De  Grammatica  appears. 
Charles  seeks  to  be  instructed  in  the  art  from  the  same 
practical  motives  that  guided  all  his  conceptions ;  it  was  the 
art  which  was  concerned  with  civil  disputes   (civiles  qiiae- 
stiones) ;  *  and  you  well  know,'  he  says,  *  that  the  affairs  of  our 
realm  and  of  our  court  are  constantly  bringing  such  disputes 
before  us,  and  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  remain  in  ignorance 
of  the  precepts  of  an  art  of  which  one  feels  the  want  every 
day  of  one's  life.'     The  art  of  rhetoric  is  denned  by  Alcuin  iiis  defini- 
as  that  of  'speaking  well'  (bene  dir.cndi) — it  is  the  art  of  T1^     [/ 
forensic  combat.     As  it  is  natural  to  all,  though  unvereed  in 
warfare,  to  defend  themselves  and  attack  their  foes,  so  it  is 
almost  equally  an  impulse  of  nature  to  accuse  others  and 
vindicate  oneself.     But  though  nature  herself  dictates  this 
use  of  speech,  those  who  speak  according  to  the  rules  of  art 
(per  grammaticam)  greatly  excel  the   rest.      Aristotle   and 
Cicero,  it  need  scarcely  be  said,  are  the  Alpha  and  Omega 
of  Alcuin's  tractate.2     The  prominence  given  to  rhetoric  in 
the  imperial  schools  had   led   to  the   transcription  of  the 

1  Migne,  ci  919-948. 

8  '  Alcuin  voulut  complete!1  Ciceron  par  1'addition  des  pre"cepte*  subtils 
d'Aristote,  niais  il  n'a  reussi  qu'a  gater  la  clarta  du  maitre  de  I'&oqueuce 
latine.'  Le'on  Maitre,  p.  2U3. 

e  2 


84 

CHAP. 
I. 


Meagre 
treatment 
of  the 
subject. 


He  de- 
scants 
on  the 
moral 
qualifica- 
tions of  the 
orator. 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

great  Boman  orator's  minor  rhetorical  treatises  to  an  extent 
which  rendered  them,  at  this  period,  certainly  the  commonest 
of  all  the  productions  of  the  classical  era,  and  scarcely  less 
frequently  to  be  met  with  than  the  Encyclopaediasts  them- 
selves.    It  is  rarely  that  a  catalogue  of  a  library  of  the 
eighth  or  ninth  century  fails  to  shew  the  existence  of  at 
least  one  copy  of  the  Topica.     The  De  inventione  rhetorica  is 
almost   as   common ;    and    even  the   spurious  treatise   ad 
Hereimium  is  of  frequent  occurrence.     In  Alcuin's  meagre 
compend,  the  graceful  prose,  the  felicitous  narrative,  the 
subtle  analysis  of  Cicero's  page  find,  of  course,  no  place.     No 
highly  wrought   conception  of  the  ideal  orator,,  like  that 
which  floated  before  the  mind  of  the  author  of  the  Orator 
and  the  De  Oratore,  disturbed  the  composure  of  the  teacher 
of  the  Palace  School  with  a  vision  which  language  was  in- 
adequate fully  to  reproduce.     The  Ciceronian  discussion  of 
details,  such  as  the  numerosa  oratio  and  rhythmus,  the  different 
styles  of  oratory,  and  the  lumina  verborum.  which  add  so  much 
to  the  interest  of  the  treatment  in  the   Orator,  dwindles 
to  a  meagre  outline  of  two  short  pages  under  the  head  of 
De  Elocutione.     For  illustrations  of  his  subject  Alcuin  prefers 
to  go  to  Scripture.     The  divine  acceptance  of  Abel's  offering 
and  the   rejection   of  Cain's  is    his  example  of  the  genus 
demonstrativum  ;  the  opposing  counsels   of  Ahifchophel  and 
Hushai  to  Absalom,  of  the  genus  deliberativum  ;  St.  Paul,  on 
his  defence  before  Felix  and  defending  himself  against  the 
charges  of  his  accusers,  of  the  genus  judiciale. 

It  is  evidently  on  the  moral  aspects  of  the  orator's  train- 
ing that  he  dwells  with  most  satisfaction.  In  speaking  of 
memory  in  relation  to  oratory,  he  gives  Cicero's  definition, 
thesaurus  omnium  rerum.  Charles  thereupon  enquires  if 
Cicero  suggests  any  means  of  acquiring  and  strengthening 
the  faculty  ?  To  which  Alcuin  replies,  none  beyond  regular 
practice  in  speaking,  practice  in  writing,  and  the  habit  of 
reflecting ;  together  with  the  advice  to  avoid  intemperance, 
as  the  chief  foe  of  all  liberal  studies,  and  the  destroyer  not 
only  of  bodily  health  but  also  of  mental  soundness.  He  then 
enlarges  on  the  necessity  that  the  orator's  daily  habits  and 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  35 

practice  should  be  in  harmony  with  the  aims  and  require-  CHAP. 
ments  of  the  part  which  he  aspires  to  play  in  public  life.  _  ^  _  , 
Even  in  ordinary  intercourse  his  expression  should  be  care- 
fully chosen,  should  be  chaste,  clear,  simple,  distinctly 
uttered,  and  accompanied  by  composed  expression  of  coun- 
tenance :  there  must  be  no  immoderate  laughter,  no  noisiness 
of  tone.  In  speaking,  as  in  walking,  there  is  a  just  medium  ; 
and  temperance  is  the  root  of  all  those  virtues  which  go  to 
make  up  nobility  of  soul,  dignity  of  life,  purity  of  morals, 
and  praiseworthy  mental  culture.  Stoical  discourse,  and  by 
no  means  without  its  relevance  to  certain  failings  in  the 
Frankish  character;  perhaps,  not  altogether  impertinent  j 
to  Charles  himself,  who,  if  we  read  Einhard  rightly,  some- 
times appeared  *  quasi  dicaculus.'  Towards  the  close  of  Alcuin's 
the  treatise,  as  Alcuin  proceeds  to  dilate  on  man's  moral 


nature  and  the  cardinal  virtues,  it  suddenly  occurs  to  Charles  th«  moral 
to  ask  whether  these  are  not  the  very  virtues  which  Christi-  gopher 
anity  itself  places  in  the  foremost  rank,  and  Alcuin  frankly  p1^1-^.6 
admits  that  such  is  the  case.     How  then,  asks  Charles,  did  teacher. 
the  philosophers  come  to  concern  themselves  about  them  ? 
Alcuin  replies  that  they  perceived  the   elements  of  these 
virtues  in  human  nature  and  cultivated  them  with  the  greatest 
ardour.     What   then,   asks    the   monarch,   constitutes  the 
difference  between  a  philosopher  like  this  and  a  Christian  ? 
Alcuin  replies,  *  faith  and  baptism.' 

Passing  on  to  the  subject  of  Logic,1  we  shall  find  that  Logic. 
Alcuin  presents  still  less  of  originality,  and  it.  may  be  added, 
of  intelligence.     But  here,  again,  it  must  in  justice  be  admit- 
ted that  the  proscription  of  the  Church  had  operated  with 
yet  greater  force  than  in  the  province  of  the  grammarian. 
If  the  calling  of  the  grammaticus  was  regarded  with  contempt  Tradi- 
or  suspicion,  that  of  the  dialecticus  was  looked  upon  with  ^J^1^ 
absolute  aversion.     It  has  been  alleged,  and  probably  with  the  Church 
reason,  that  much  of  this  feeling  took  its  rise  in  the  fact,  that  Aspect 
the  defenders  of  the  orthodox  faith  too  often  found  themselves  t(?  the  . 
completely  worsted  by  their  antagonists  when  they  endea-  art. 
voured  to  conduct  a  controversy  after  the  prescribed  fashion 
1  De  Dialectica,  Migne,  ci  951-979. 


36  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP,     of  the  schools.     The  epithet  flung  at  Aristotle  by  Fanstinus 
-_..*• .  the  Luciferian,  of  *  the  bishop  of  the  Arians,'  and  the  sar- 
castic saying  of  John  of  Damascus,  that  the  Monophy sites 
had  made  the  great  Stagirite  a  thirteenth  apostle,  indicate 
the  prejudice  that  had  been  created  against  the  art  of  logic l — 
the  only  one,  as  we  have  already  seen,  in  which,  at  this 
period,  the  influence  of  Aristotle  can  be  said  to  be  distinctly 
recognisable.      Hence,   from   almost  the   earliest  times  of 
Christianity,  we  are  confronted  by  a  formidable  consensus  of 
authority  against  dialectical  contests  like  those  which  had 
once  delighted  the  disciples  of  the  Academy  and  the  Stoa. 
Even  apostolic  teaching,  it  was  claimed,  had  clearly  pro- 
nounced such  contests  worse  than  useless ;  and  it  is  not  a 
little  significant  that  a  critic  so  eminent  as  Longinus,  while 
paying  a  high  tribute  to  the  oratorical  genius  of  St.  Paul, 
declared  that  he  had  c  asserted  a  doctrine  indemonstrable  by 
proof.' a    Nor  can  it  be  denied  that  more  than  one  passage 
in  the  Pauline  Epistles  may  be  cited,  which  seems  to  glance 
with  little  favour  at  the   customary  weapons   of   Gentile 
controversy,  and  not  improbably  gave  tone  to  the  language 
of  the  Fathers/  3    Trenaeus,  in  the  second  century,  is  loud  in 
his   complaint  of  those  '  who   oppose   the   Faith  with  an 
Aristotelian   word-chopping  (minutilo^uium)   and  excess  of 
refinement  in  argument.' 4     *  Unhappy    Aristotle,'    exclaims 
Tertullian,  *  the  inventor  of  dialectic,  artful  in  building  up 
and  cunning  to   destroy,  ....  injurious  even  to  its   own 
master,  revoking  everything  lest  it   should  seem  to   have 
treated  aught  explicitly.' 5     *  Wanted  we  the  syllogisms  of 
Aristotle  or  of  Chrysippns,'  cried  St.  Basil  to  his  antagonist, 

1  See  on  this  subject  Dr.  J.  H.  Newman's  comments,  Essays,  ii  42 ;  also 
Prautl,  ii  1-10. 

2  If   we  may  accept  the  somewhat  doubtful   fragment  where,  after 
enumerating,  as  oratorical  models,  Demosthenes,  Lysias,  Aeschines,  Aristides, 
Isaotia,  Isocrates,  etc.,  he  adds,  Upbs  TOVTOIS  IluCXof  &  Tapo-rvs,  ovriva.  K.a.1 
irp&rov  <p>j[j.i  irpoi<rrdfjievot>  doy/uaror  dvairobciicrov.     Longinus  (ed.  Vaucher), 
pp.  310-1. 

»  See  1  Cor.  ii  17;  1  Thess.  i  6;  1  Tim.  vi  3-6. 

4  Adv.  Haeres.  n  xviii  5 ;  with  allusion  probably  to  the  Basilidianr 
eee  ed.  by  W.  W.  Harvey,  i  296. 

5  De  Pi-aeacript.  c.  7  ;  Migne,  ii  20. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  87 

4  to  teach  us  that  the  Unbegottcn  could  never  have  been 
born?  ' '  *  We  need  not  the  nets  of  the  dialecticians  or  the 
thorn  bushes  of  Aristotle,'  says  Jerome,  *  but  the  words  of 
the  Scriptures  themselves.' 2  '  They  know  not  Christ/  says 
Eusebius,  of  the  pagan  party,  'but  seek  with  pains  what 
figure  of  the  syllogism  can  be  found  to  confirm  their  un- 
belief; should  one  chance  to  bring  forward  the  testimony  of 
Holy  Writ,  they  reply  by  asking  whether  he  can  construct 
the  conjunctive  or  disjunctive  figure  of  the  syllogism. 
Skilled  in  the  cunning  and  subtlety  of  the  ungodly,  they 
corrupt  the  simple  and  natural  truth  of  Scripture.' 3  Socrates, 
the  historian,  bears  witness  to  the  existence  of  the  same  feel- 
ing in  his  own  time,  when  he  tells  us  that  Aetius  the  Ariau 
amazed  his  hearers  by  the  novelty  of  his  teaching,  '  relying 
on  the  categories  of  Aristotle.' 4  In  the  seventh  century  we 
find  Theodorus  Rhaituensis  declaring  that  his  opponent, 
Severus  of  Antioch,  estimated  a  theologian  according  to 
his  knowledge  of  the  same  treatise,  and  of  '  the  other  refine- 
ments of  pagan  philosophy.' 5 

When  such  were  the  sentiments  of  many  of  the  most  These 
distinguished  teachers  of  the  Church,  it  can  be  no  matter  for  p{!^L  re_ 
surprise  that  a  mind  like  Alcuin's  regarded  with  something  fleeted  in 
more   than  distrust  an  art   so   emphatically  decried.      If 
partly  reconciled  to  its  introduction  into  the  schools  by  the 
fact  that  it  had  been  sanctioned,  to  some  extent,  by  the 
revered  authority  of  Isidorus,  he  seems  to  have  been  resolved 
to  do  nothing  towards  adding  to  that  sanction  by  his  own 
example.      As   Isidorus,   following.  Cassiodorus,   treats    of 
dialectic  and  rhetoric  under  the  general  head  of  logic,  Alcuin 
mechanically  reproduces  the  same  arbitrary   classification. 

1  Adv.  Eunom.  bk.  I ;  Ibid.  (S.  G.)  xxix  516. 

2  Adv.  Helvid. ;  Ibid,  xxiii  185.  *  Hist.  Ecclesiast.  v  27. 

4  TOVTO  8f  (naif i,  rats  Karrjyopiais  'ApwrroreXovs  iriaTcvmv.      Hist.  Eccles. 
ii  35;  Migne  (S.  G.),  Ixvii  297.     Aristotle,  in  Socrates'  opinion,  only  com- 
posed his  logical  treatises  in  order  to  place  his  disciples  on  equal  terms  with 
the' Sophists. 

5  After  quoting  St.    Paul,  1  Cor.   iv  20,  Qvrvs  &  irap    avrw  Sevqpej 
tcpaTHTTOs  6to\6yos  yvdnpi^fTat,  axrav  ras  Karrfyoplag  'Apiorore'Aovy  KOI  ra  \oina 
T£>V  «£a>  0iAocrcir/)a>i'  Ko/i^a  ^(T/o/^tVos  rvy\avi],     De  Incaniat.,  Migne  (S.  G.)> 
xci  1504. 


83 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


After  quoting  the  old   simile,  handed  down  from  Varro, 
whereby  dialectic  and  rhetoric  are  compared  to  the  clenched 
and  the  open  hand,1  he  proceeds  to  tell  us  how  dialectic  is 
subdivided,  namely,  into  isagogae,  categoriae,  syllogismorum 
formulae,   diffinitiones,   topica,  periermeniae,  —  *  a  monstrous 
arrangement,'  as  Prantl  not  unreasonably  observes.     All  that 
follows  in  the  chapter  De  Isagogis  is  from  Isidorus,  excepting 
that  an  example  is  supplied  under  each  heading  by  way  of 
illustration.     In  the  same  manner  the  enumeration  of  the 
Categories  is  taken  from  the  Pseudo-Augustin,  the  Greek 
words  being  given  in  barbarous  Latin  forms.     Between  these 
two  sources,  together  with  a  little  from  Boethius,  Alcuin 
ekes  out   his  treatise  on   Dialectic  —  *  ein  abenteuerlicher 
Compilation  eines  Compendium  s/  to  quote  his  eminent  critic 
once  more,  wherein  *  not  even  the  abstract  logical  necessity 
of  a  certain  coherence  of  succession  is  discernible.'2    Even 
Fredegis'  eccentric  treatise,  De  Nihilo  et  Tenebris,  seems  to 
him  an  advance  on  such  mechanical  drudgery  as  this. 

In  like  manner,  Alcuin's  treatment  of  the  subjects  of  the 
quadrivium  3  is  a  mere  echo  of  the  Encyclopaedists,  with  a 
somewhat  larger  infusion   of   superstitious  mysticism.     In 
'  arithmetic  we  find  him  attributing  a  mysterious  power  to 
the  numbers  3  and  6,   which  he   speaks   of  as  containing 
*  the   keys  of  nature.'     A  treatise  which  he  compiled  on 
music  is  no  longer  extant.     In  astronomy  fancy,  or  arbitrary 
hypothesis,  supplied  the  place  of  observation  ;  while  the  ray 
of  light  that  flashed  from  the  page  of  Capella  upon  the  dark 
system  of  Ptolemy  4  appears  never  even  to  have  arrested  his 
attention..    In  the  month  of  July,  797,  the  planet  Mars  dis- 
-  appeared  from  the  heavens,  and  was  not  again  visible  until 
the  following  July.     Charles,  whose  interest  in  astronomical 
questions  was  singularly  active,  enquired  eagerly  of  Alcuin 


His  treat- 

Arithmetic 
and 


His  ex- 


nomical 
menon. 


1  '  Dialecticam  et  rhetoricam  Varro  in  novem  disciplinanun  libris  tali 
eimilitudine  detinivit:  dialectica  et  rhetorica  est  quod  in  manu  honrinis 
pugmis  astrictus  et  palma  distensa,  ilia  verba  contrahens,  ista  distendens.' 
Cassiodorus,  Dial.  8,  ed.  Venet.  1739,  p.  536.  See  also  Lsidorus,  Oiiginee, 
II  23. 

8  Gench.  d.  Logik,  ii  14-16.  »  Migne,  ci  979-984,  1143-1169. 

4  See  supra,  p.  66,  note  1. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  59 

the  cause  of  this  portentous  phenomenon ;  and  was  met  by 
the  facetious  reply  that  the  sun  had  detained  the  planet  in 
its  course,  but  had  at  last  again  released  it  through  fear  of 
the  Nemean  lion  !  l 

The  foregoing  account    may  suffice    to  illustrate   the  Alcuinasa 
character  of  what  may  be  termed  Alcuin's  technical  instruc-       °  °£wn' 
tionin  the  Palatine  School;  but  it  would  be  very  imperfectly 
to  estimate  his  influence  were  we  to  omit  to  notice  how  it 
operated  in  relation  to  that  study  in  which,  according  to  the 
grand  old  mediaeval  notion,  not  only  the  trivium  and  qua- 
drivium,  but  all  human  knowledge  culminated, — the  study  of 
theology.     Of  his  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves his  controversial  treatises,  those  against  the  Adoption-  His  con- 
ist  leaders  Elipandus  and   Felix,  would  alone  be  sufficient  ^-^^ 
proof,  and  may  be  held  fairly  to  justify  the  assertion  of  the  Adop- 
monk  of  St.  Gall,  that  Alcuin  was  *  familiar  with  the  whole 
of  the  sacred  writings  beyond  all  others  of  his  age.' 2    His 
reputation  with  his  contemporaries  stood  not  less  high.     At 
the  great  Council  of  Frankfort  in  794,  though  neither  bishop 
nor  abbat,  he  was  assigned  a  seat  and  permitted  to  share  in 
the  deliberations,  on  the  ground  of  'his  attainments   in 
Church  learning.'  a 

Of  his  views  as  a  churchman  we  have  already  spoken —  His 
he  trod  in  the  steps  of  Gregory  and  Bede  ;  and  in  the  inter- 
pretation  of  Scripture  he  yielded  them  the  same  obedience,  traditions 
To  teach  what  the  Fathers  taught — to  interpret  every  pas-  Latin 
sage  by  the  light  of  preceding  investigation — such  were  the  churcl1- 
canons  he  laid  down,  and  they  were  faithfully  adhered  to  by 
his  disciples.    M.  Monnier  observes4  that  the  theologians  of 

1  In  allusion  to  the  planet  having  again  become  visible  in  the  sign  of 
Leo.  Migne,  c  275. 

*  '  Qui  erat  in  omui  latitudine  scripturarum  super  caeteros  modernorum 
temporum  exercitatus.'    Pertz,  ii  781. 

*  De  Alcuino,  quern  rex  synodo  commendavit.     '  Commonuit  etiam  ut 
Alcuinum  ipsa  sancta  synodus  in  suo  consortio  sive  in  orationibus  recipere 
dignaretur,  eo  quod  esset  TUT  in  ecclesiasticis  doctiinis  eruditus.'    Baluze,  i 
270. 

4  P.  204.  l  Alcuin,'  he  says, '  est  le  representant  le  plus  complet  de 
cette  the"ologie  orthodoxe  mais  craintive,  plus  abondante  en  livres  qu'en 
idees.' 


90  CHARLES  TOE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

Fulda,  of  St.  Gall,  and  Corbey,  all  reproduce  the  same  method 
of  theological  teaching.  Of  Alcuiii's  tenets  in  general  it 
may  be  said,  that  nothing  could  be  more  unrnistakeably  op- 
posed to  that  theory  of  developement  on  which  certain  writers 
have  so  strenuously  insisted  in  vindicating  the  views  put 
forth  by  the  mediaeval  Church.  In  his  commentary  on  the 
penitential  psalms,  he  gives  us  little  more  than  the  exposi- 
tions of  Augustine  and  Cassiodorus  —  in  expounding  the 
Epistles  to  Titus  and  Philemon,  he  reproduces  St.  Jerome  — 
in  treating  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  he  has  recourse  to 
St.  Chrysostom,  and  prefers  altogether  to  pass  by  the 
question  raised  by  Jerome  regarding  its  authenticity.  His 
treatise  De  Fide  Trinitatis  aspires  to  nothing  more  than  to 
render  somewhat  more  intelligible  the  doctrine  of  St.  Augus- 
tine. His  commentary  on  St.  John  is  compiled  partly  from 
the  same  Father,  partly  from  Ambrose,  Gregory,  and  others. 
His  exposition  of  the  Apocalypse  is  a  mere  echo  of  Bede. 
His  In  no  respect  indeed  is  Alcuin's  influence  on  the  Carolin- 

§»ian  schools  more  distinctly  perceptible  than  in  the  manner 


discernible  jn  which  he  thus  perpetuated  and  enhanced  the  authority  of 

promotion    the  Fathers.     In  his  mystic  interpretation  of  Scripture  the 

of  defer^    influence  °f  St.  Ambrose,  in  his  Hexaemeron,  and  perhaps  also 

encefor      that  of  Cassian,  is  especially  to  be  noted:  Alcuin  appears  to 

'"  y<    have  taught  in  Frankland  the  science  for  which  Boniface  was 

vaguely  renowned.     The  sensus  litteraUs  of  a  passage  having 

been  first  unfolded  —  that  is  to  say,  a  critical,  historical,  and 

grammatical  examination  of  its  meaning  having  been  given  — 

the  commentator  passes  on  to  what  in  his  view  was  by  far 

His  the  more  important  part  —  the  sensiis  allegorialis.     In  this 

to  annCy     direction  the  most  lively  fancy  and  ingenuity  could  have 

allegorical   craved  for  no  greater  license  than  that  which  commentators 

tion^f  G      lite  Bede  and  Alcuin  assume  in  attributing  a  latent  figura- 

Scnptore.    tive  meaning  to  the  most  prosaic  expressions.    The  marriage 

at  Cana  is  said  by  St.  John  to  have  taken  place  on  the  third 

day  ;  this,  says  Alcuia,  is  designed  to  imply  that  our  Lord 

came  to  elect  his  Church  in  the  third  age  —  the  first  having 

been  that  of  the  patriarchs,  the  second  of  the  prophets,  the 

third  of  the  Evangelists.  There  were  six  waterpots,  because  six 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  91 

centuries  elapsed  before  prophecy  became  fulfilled  in  our  Lord's     CHAP, 
actual  appearance.1     The  triclinium  on  which  the  guests  re-  ^    *'--- 
posed  at  table  denoted  the  three  divisions  of  the  faithful — the     l^ 
married,  those  vowed  to  celibacy  (contintntes),  and  the  teachers.2 
The  *  four  living  creatures,'  described  by  Ezekiel,  typified  the 
four  Evangelists.     In  the  conversation  with  Sigulfus  on  the 
Book  of  Genesis  the  question  is  raised,  why  animals  that  live  on 
land  are  more  accursed  than  those  that  live  in  the  water?  The 
reply  is,  because  they  consume  more  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth, 
which  was  cursed  ;  for  the  same  reason  Christ,  after  He  had 
risen  from  the  dead,  preferred  to  eat  fish  rather  than  flesh  !  3 

This  morbid  passion  for  analogy,  almost  as  arbitrary  and  Influence 
fantastic  in  its  exercise  as  the  fancy  which  thinks  to  discern  example 
strange  shapes  and  fearful  visages  in  the  heavenly  constellations,  j,"  l^ 
assumes  no  ordinary  importance  when  we  recall  how  potent 
was  its  influence  on  the  whole  current  of  mediaeval  theology. 
The  vast  tomes  which,  at  the  present  day,  occupy  so  large  a 
space  in  our  ancient  libraries,  the  monuments  of  the  labours 
of  Hugo  of  St.  Victor,  of  Hugo  of  St.  Cher,  and  Nicolas  de 
Lyra,  reflect  the  teaching  of  Alcuin ;  the  lessons  of  the  Pala- 
tine School  and  the  expositions  at  Tours  were  revived,  long 
after,  by  the  great  doctors  who  taught  in  the  University  of 
Paris. 

It  is  impossible  to  deny,  when  comparing  the  mental  Thepre- 
characteristics  of  these  distant  times  with  those  of  our  own  mediaeval* 
day,  that  the  comparative  modesty  of  assumption  which  dis-  ajl^ 
tinguishes  our  ablest  writers  on  science  offers  one  of  the  teachers 
most  favourable  points  of  contrast.    The  tone  of  scientific  C01ltl>asted. 
investigators  and  discoverers  may  often,  be  far  from  reverent, 
yet  we  cannot  but  recognise  in  the  habits  of  mind  developed 
by  research  of  this  character  an  influence  eminently  repressive 
of  vague  assertion  and  unverified  hypothesis.    The  necessity 
for  rigid  accuracy  in  all  processes  that  involve  the  employment 
of  numbers — the  chastening  discipline  of  oft-repeated  failure 
and  of  errors  of  conception,  brought  home  to  the  enquirer  by 

1  Migne,  c  770. 

2  '  Quia  nimirum  tres  sunt  ordinea  fidelium  quibus  ecclesia  constat : 
conjugatorum  videlicet,  continentiurn,  etdoctorum.'    Migne,  c  771. 

8  Ibid,  c  518. 


92  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

Pr 

the  very  data  lie  has  himself  assumed — the  distrust  that  at  last 
becomes  habitual  of  all  conclusions  that  do  not  admit  of  at 
least   approximate  verification — are   little  favourable  to   a 
dictatorial  spirit  in  any  province  of  knowledge.     But  at  the 
time  that  Alcuin  lived,  and  for  centuries  after,  no  such  re- 
straining   influence   existed.     Fancy   and  invention    roved 
through  the  whole  domain  of  letters  unchecked.     Miracle, 
legend,  and  gross  exaggeration  passed  alike   unchallenged 
and  unsuspected.      The   popular  mind,  delighting    in  the 
marvellous,  was  willing  to  be  deceived,  and  was  deceived 
accordingly.     In  no  respect  are  the  effects  of  this  tendency 
more  clearly  discernible  than  in  connexion  with  the  history  of 
individuals,  especially  of  those  who  aspired  to  be  the  in- 
structors of  their  age.    Men  hailed  the  appearance  of  some 
great  doctor  who,  like  Alan  of  the  Isles,  knew  or  professed  to 
know  the  whole  circle  of  the  sciences — who,  by  virtue  of  tra- 
ditional learning  or  original  genius,  had  an  answer  ready  for 
every  enquiry,  a  solution  for  every  difficulty.     An  instructor . 
who  had  frankly  confessed  that  he  too  was  but  an  enquirer, 
often  baffled,  often  perplexed,  would  have  found  his  reputa- 
tion gone.    It  would  require  a  long  search  through  the  pages 
of  the  doctor  subtilis,  the   doctor  angelicus,  or  the  doctor  irre- 
fragibilis  to  discover  any  such  avowal. 
Difficulties        It  is  not  difficult  to  perceive  that  the  prevalence  of  ex- 
aggerat;e<l  notions  of  this  character  proved  a  fatal  snare  to 
Alcuin.     Expectation  at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Great  had 
been  roused  to  the  highest  pitch  by  the  fame  of  this  great 
doctor  from  beyond  the  seas.  The  circle  that  gathered  in  the 
Palatine  School  looked  not  merely  for  the  grammarian  and 
the  theologian,  which  Alcuin  might  fairly  claim  to  be,  but 
also  for  the  logician,  the  metaphysician,  and  the  natural  phi- 
losopher, which  he  was  not.     It  would,  of  course,  have  been 
perfectly  in  his  power  to  disavow  his  ability  to  satisfy  these 
exorbitant  requirements,  but  it  is  certain  that  such  a  course 
would  have  been  attended  with  much  humiliation.     It  was 
not  simply  that  the  marked  distinction  with  which  he  had 
been  received,  and  the  royal  favours  lavished  upon  him,  must 
have  incited  him  to  his  utmost  efforts  to  approve  himself  a 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  93 

deserving  recipient,  but,  as  we  shall  hereafter  see,  there  were     CHAP. 
those  at  hand  who  were  only  too  ready  to  profit  by  any  back-   .  _   *•     . 
wardness  on  his  part  and  at  once  to  occupy  the  chair  which 
he  would  vacate.     These  were  men  whom  he  regarded  as 
enemies  of  the  true  faith,  and  he  would  naturally  be  led,  not 
less  by  a  spirit  of  loyalty  to  the  Church  than  by  individual 
interest,  to  seek  to  prevent  their  winning  the  royal  ear,  and 
disseminating  false  doctrine  throughout  the  court. 

The  mechanical  and  defective  character  of  Alcuin's  treat-  His  con. 
ment  of  logic  will  prepare  us  to  moderate  our  expectations  traditions 
when  he  approaches  the  subject  of  metaphysics.     The  cele-  tions  of 


brated  passage  in  Porphyry,  whence  sprung  the  scholastic 
controversy  concerning  Universals,  had  not,  as  yet,  become 
the  subject  of  debate,  but  enquiry  already  hovered  not  far  off 
from  the  great  battle-field  of  mediaeval  philosophy.  The 
theory  of  Aristotle  respecting  the  relations  of  '  substance  '  to 
*  entity  '  is  sufficiently  intelligible.  At  the  commencement 
of  the  Categories,1  he  defines  ovcria,  or  substance,  as  essen- 
tially the  property  of  the  individual  ;  so  far  from  being,  as 
Plato  held,  a  Universal,  it  was  simply  that  which  furnished 
the  primary  notion  of  being,  as  the  substratum  of  the  indivi- 
dual. This  teaching  is  preserved  with  sufficient  clearness  in 
Isidorus,  who  also  preserves  the  well-known  distinction  by 
which,  according  as  it  is  regarded  as  denoting  independent 
existence  or  as  a  basis  of  attributes,  it  is  derived,  in  the  first 
instance,  from  subsistendo,  in  the  second,  from  substando.* 

Whether,  in  agreement  with  Sir  William  Hamilton,  we 
consider  that,  whichever  derivation  we  accept,  the  term  has 
reference  to  the  same  thing  (viewed,  however,  under  a  different 
aspect),  or  with  M.  Haureau,  that  a  distinction  is  involved 
between  *  being  '  and  '  substance,*  the  neglect  of  which  lands  «  Sub- 
us  in  c  pure  Spinozism,'  3  it  is  undeniable  that  the  distinction  ?^n'ce  • 

is  one  of  primary  importance,  and  is  to  be  found  even  in  and  'be- 

ing.' 

1  Oh.  iii. 

*  '  Ueiae  autem,  id  est  substantiae,  proprium  est,  quod  caeteris  subjacet 
reliqua  novem  accidentia  sunt.  Substantia  autem  dicitur  ab  eo  quod  omhis 
res  ad  seipsam  bubsistit.  Corpus  euim  subsistit,  et  ideo  substautia  est. 
Etymol.  II  26  ;  Migne,  Ixxxii  144-5. 

3  Philosophic  Scholastique,  i  72. 


94  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CHAP.  Isiclorus.  In  Alcuin's  exposition,  however,  it  effectually 
^  '  ^  eludes  comprehension.  He  tells  us,  indeed,  quoting  from 
Isidorus,  that  4  substantia  is  so  called  because  it  is  that  which 
subsists,  i.e.  imparts  to  every  entity  (natura)  its  distinctive 
shape ; '  but  somewhat  further  on  he  proceeds  to  define  '  sub- 
stance,' and  informs  us  that  ovata  (substantia)  is  that  which 
is  discerned  by  the  bodily  sense,  while  accidens  ((TV^S^KOS)^ 
he  adds,  is  that  which  is  apprehended  only  by  the  mind. 
Then  he  adds,  strangely  enough,  that  ovo-ia  has  also  been 
termed  v-rroicsipsvov,  that  is,  he  explains  (the  scholastic  sub- 
stratum not  having  been  yet  invented),  subjacens.1 

It  is  uot  surprising  that  teaching  which  thus  slurred  over 
an  all-important  distinction,  and  then  proceeded  to  define 
phaenomcna  as  discernible  only  by  the  intellect,  tended  much 
to  mystify  his  disciples.  Ar.no,  his  fellow-countryman,  was 
especially  puzzled,  and  wrote  to  beg  for  a  concise  explanation 
as  to  the  real  meaning  of  the  different  terms — substantia, 
essentia,  and  subsistentia.  He  wanted  particularly  to  know 
whether  the  supreme  Being  could  be  termed  a  *  substance.' 
Alcuin,  in  his  reply,  falls  back  upon  the  ordinary  acceptation 
of  the  first  term,  and  explains  that  substantia  is  a  common 
name  for  every  existing  thing — sun,  moon,  trees,  animals, 
man  himself;  'substance5  is  essential  to  existence,  and  hence 
God  Himself  is  a  substance,  the  chief,  the  primary  substance,3 
and  the  cause  of  all  substances.  Such  a  conception,  he 
holds,  is  directly  opposed  to  the  'Arian  poison,'  and  he 
dilates  on  its  theological  value  j  but  he  vouchsafes  his  cor- 
respondent no  aid  whatever  in  arriving  at  a  philosophical 
discrimination  in  the  use  of  the  foregoing  terms,  and  Arno 
must  have  felt  as  far  from  a  satisfactory  result  as  ever. 
Diver-  When  the  teacher  laid  down  the  canons  in  such  dubious 

fheory°in     an^  even  contradictory  terms,  it  is  not  surprising  that  he 

his  pupils. 

1  '  Nam  id  quod  corporal!  sensu  discernitur,  usian,  id  est,  substantiam 

dici  jusserunt.  Illud  autein,  quod  animi  tractatu  solum  colligitur,  aut  saepe 
mutatur,  aymbebicos,  id  est,  accidens  nominari  maluerunt.  Usian  quoque 
ypocimenon,  id  est,  subjaciens  appellare  voluerunt.'  De  Dialectics,  Migne, 
ci  9o<3. 

*  '  Deusigitur  substantia  est,  et  surnma  substantia,  et  prima  substantia,  et 
omnium  substantiaruni  causa,  quia  omnium  reriun  creator  est.'  Migne,  c  418. 


THE   SCIIOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  95 

should  have  failed  to  impress  any  distinct  philosophic  notions 
on  his  disciples,  and  that  while  we  afterwards  find  the 
most  distinguished  inheritors  of  his  traditions  asserting  the 
doctrines  of  Nominalism,  others,  like  Fredegis,  are  to  be 
seen  espousing  those  of  the  extremest  Realism.  How  singu- 
larly the  latter,  though  the  recognised  successor  of  Alciiin, 
departed  from  his  master's  tenets  may  be  gathered  from  the 
following  instance.  In  one  of  Alcuin's  letters  to  Charles 

c» 

tliere.  is  an  interesting  passage,  somewhat  reminding  us  of 
the  first  book  of  Cicero's  Tusculan  Disputations,  in  which  he 
argues  that  death  is  no  evil ;  it  is,  in  fact,  not  even  a  reality, 
but  simply  the  absence  of  a  reality — that  is,  of  the  vital  prin- 
ciple :  just,  he  goes  on  to  add,  as  darkness  is  nothing  but  the 
absence  of  light — sicut  tenebrae  nihil  aliud  sunt  nisi  absentia 
lucis.1  It  is  impossible  to  say  whether  Fredegis  ever  saw  Fredegi*as 
this  letter — it  appears  to  have  been  written  at  the  time  when  a  Reahst- 
he  was  presiding  over  the  Palace  School  after  Alcuin's  retire- 
ment to  Tours — but  it  is  certainly  somewhat  remarkable  that, 
taking  for  his  motto  the  passage  in  St.  Matthew,  *  If  there-  . 
fore  the  light  that  is  in  thee  be  darkness,  how  great  is  that 
darkness ! J  he  should  have  composed  a  treatise  to  prove  that 
nothing  and  darkness  are  alike  real  entities  !  M.  Haureau,  who 
speaks  of  Fredegis  as  *  le  premier-ne  des  realistes  du  moy en- 
age,'  assumes  that  the  treatise  was  written  in  reply  to  certain 
'  gens  de  peu  de  foi'  at  Charles'  court.  If  so,  it  would  appear 
that  among  these  sceptically  inclined  individuals  we  must 
include  Alcuin  himself.2 

Yet  notwithstanding  Alcuin's  defects  as  a  philosopher, 
his  strong  practical  sagacity  stood  him  in  good  stead.  If 
his  genius  was  little  suited  for  speculative  enquiry,  it  was 
also  equally  opposed  to  extravagant  and  fantastic  theorisa- 

1  Migne,  c  435.  The  Tusculans  appear  to  Lave  been  well  known  to 
scholars  at  this  period :  Lupus  of  Ferrieres,  writing  to  Einhard,  quotes  from 
the  first  book.  See  Einhardi  Opera  (ed.  Teulet),  ii  157. 

8  The  dispute  seems  to  date  back  as  far  as  the  time  of  Isidorus : — ( Non 
ex  hoc  substantiam  habere  credendae  sunt  tenebrae,  quia  dicit  dominus  per 
prophetam,  "  Ego  dominus  formam,  luceni  et  creans  tenebras,"  sed  quia 
angelica  natura,  quae  uon  est  praevaricata,  lux  dicitur,  ilia  autem  quae 
praevaricata  est,  teuebrarura  nomine  nuncupatur.'  Sent.  1 2. 


96 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 


CHAP. 
I. 


Alcuin's 
chief 
friends : 


Arno, 


Benedictof 
Aniane, 


and  Theo- 
dulfus. 


Monas- 
teries 
placed 
under  bis 
control. 


tion.  We  find  liim  accordingly  maintaining  his  ground  at 
the  Palace  School  with  apparently  undiminished  reputation, 
while  throughout  the  realm  he  could  number  among  his 
friends  the  foremost  men  in  Church  and  State.  Besides 
those  already  enumerated  as  among  his  audience  at  court, 
there  were  three  of  especial  eminence.  The  first,  the  friend 
to  -whom  he  seems  to  have  been  of  all  others  most  closely 
attached,  was  his  fellow-countryman  Arno,  bishop  of  Salz- 
burg, to  whom  many  of  his  letters  are  addressed,  and  who, 
in  his  remote  diocese,  was  energetically  carrying  on  the 
noble  work  of  St.  Boniface.  The  second,  Benedict  of  Aniane, 
had  formerly  been  a  page  in  the  court  of  Pepin-le-Bref,  and 
his  chivalrous  nature  and  prowess  in  the  fight  especially 
endeared  him  to  Charles ;  but  on  him,  too,  had  fallen  the 
sorrow  of  his  age,  and  he  was  now,  in  his  cell  on  the  Aniane,1 
withdrawn  from  life  and  famed  for  the  austerity  with  which 
he  there  enforced  the  observance  of  the  Benedictine  rule. 
Equally  eminent,  though  in  different  fashion,  was  Theodulfus, 
bishop  of  Orleans,  the  founder  of  the  great  school  of  Fleury, 
a  Spaniard  of  Gothic  descent  who  reflected  the  culture  of 
southern  Gaul,  and  whose  name  is  memorable  as  that  of  the 
initiator  of  free  education  and  an  active  guardian  of  letters. 
On  every  side,  indeed,  Alcuin  appears  to  have  found 
active  sympathy  and  co-operation ;  and  if  the  task  to  which 
he  had  been  summoned  was  arduous,  the  resources  at  his 
disposal  were  proportionably  great.  Two  important  monas- 
teries— one  that  of  St.  Loup  near  Troyes,  the  other  that  of 
Ferrieres  in  the  Gatinais — were  placed  under  his  control, 
and  supplied  him  with  a  sufficient  revenue ;  while  in  the 
work  of  educational  reform  he  was  supported  by  the  whole 
of  the  royal  influence.  During  the  first  five  years  that 
followed  upon  his  arrival  at  Charles'  court,  it  would  appear, 
however,  that  the  Saxon  war  effectually  distracted  the 
monarch's  attention  from  efforts  of  a  general  and  compre- 
hensive character.  But  in  the  year  785  the  hero  Witikind 
laid  down  his  arms  and  embraced  Christianity.  His  example 

1  A  river  in  Septimania  (the  modern  Languedoc)  remarkable  for  its  wild 
and  rugged  scenery. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  <)j 

was   followed   by   large   numbers   of    his   countrymen,   the     CHAP. 

thunder- clouds  of  war  rolled  oft'  to  more  distant  parts  of  the    , ^i , 

empire,  and  Neustria  and  Austrasia  had  rest.1  Suspension 

Within  two  years  from  this  time  we  accordingly  find  fj^n 
Charles  developing  a  more  extended  scheme  of  reformation,  "wav. 
and  calling  upon  the  monasteries  and  the  Church  to  aid  him 
in  giving  due  effect  to  his  designs.  In  the  famous  Capitulary  Charles' 
of  787  we  recognise  both  the  practical  spirit  of  the  monarch.  ofTs"  *" 
and  the  influence  of  his  new  adviser.  The  copy  that  has 
reached  us  is  that  addressed  to  the  abbat  of  Fulda.  Far 
away  beyond  the  boundaries  of  modern  France,  a  hundred 
miles  eastward  of  the  Rhine,  amid  the  solitudes  and  wooded 
heights  of  Hesse  Cassel,  the  monks  of  this  now  famous 
foundation  maintained,  in  envied  independence  of  episcopal 
control,2  the  observance  of  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict.  As  the 
site  hallowed  by  the  mortal  remains  of  St.  Boniface,  Fulda 
appealed  with  peculiar  force  to  the  characteristic  superstition 
of  the  age,  scarce  yielding  to  St.  Martin  itself  in  its  claims 
to  especial  reverence ;  its  abbat  was  one  of  the  four  ablates 
imperil,  while  its  material  importance  is  sufficiently  indicated 
by  supplies  of  men  and  money  to  the  state  in  times  of  war,3 
and  its  frequent  selection  as  the  place  of  confinement  for 
political  prisoners.  It  was  here  that  the  abbat  Baugulfus 
received  a  copy  of  the  capitulary  which  Charles  addressed  to 
the  bishops  and  abbats  throughout  the  realm  : — 

'  Charles,  by  the  grace  of  God,  King  of  the  Franks  and  of 
the  Lombards  and  Patrician  of  the  Romans,  to  Baugulfus, 
abbat,  and  to  his  whole  congregation  and  the  faithful  com- 
mitted to  his  charge : 

'  Be  it  known  to  your  devotion,  pleasing  to  God,  that  in 
conjunction  with  our  faithful  we  have  judged  it  to  be  of 

1  '  Quievitque  ilia  Saxonicae  perftdiae  pervicacitas  per  annos  aliquot,  ob 
hoc  raaxime,  quoniam  occasiones  deticiendi  ad  rem  pertinentes  inveiiire  non 
potuerunt.'  Eiuhard,  Annales  (ed.  Teulet),  i  19C. 

a  This  was  in  accordance  with  the  original  plan  of  St.  Boniface ;  see 
supra,  p.  46,  n.  2. 

*  Balnze,  i  589.  See  also  a  letter  from  Eiuhard  to  Kabanus  Maimis 
begging  on  behalf  of  one  of  the  monks, '  ut  sibi  liceat  Her  exercitale,  quod 
praesenti  tempore  agendum  est,  omittere.'  Carolina,  469, 

H 


98  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

utility  that,  in  the  bishoprics  and  monasteries  committed  by 
Christ's  favour  to  our  charge,  care  should  be  taken  that  there 
shall  be  not  only  a  regular  manner  of  life  and  one  conform- 
able to  holy  religion,  but  also  the  study  of  letters,  each  to 
teach  and  learn  them  according  to  his  ability  and  the  divine 
assistance.     For  even  as  due  observance  of  the  rule  of  the 
house  tends  to  good  morals,  so  zeal  on  the  part  of  the  teacher 
and  the  taught  imparts  order  and  grace  to  sentences  ;  and 
those  who  seek  to  please  Grod  by  living  aright  should  also 
not  neglect  to  please  Him  by  right  speaking.     It  is  written, 
"  by  thine  own  words  shalt  thou  be  justified  or  condemned ; " 
and  although  right  doing  be  preferable  to  right  speaking, 
yet  must  the  knowledge  of  what  is  right  precede  right  action. 
Everyone,  therefore,  should  strive  to  understand  what  it  is 
that  he  would  fain  accomplish ;  and  this  right  understanding 
will  be  the  sooner  gained  according  as  the  utterances  of  the 
tongue  are  free  from  error.     And  if  false  speaking  is  to  be 
shunned  by  all  men,  especially  should  it  be  shunned  by  those 
who  have  elected  to  be  the  servants  of  the  truth.     During 
past  years  we   have   often  received  letters   from   different 
monasteries  informing  us  that  at  their  sacred  services  the 
brethren  offered  up  prayers  on  our  behalf;  and  we  have  ob- 
served that  the  thoughts  contained  in  these  letters,  though 
in  themselves  most  just,  were  expressed  in  uncouth  language, 
and  while  pious  devotion  dictated  the  sentiments,  the  un- 
lettered tongue  was  unable  to  express  them  aright.     Hence 
there  has  arisen  in  our  minds  the  fear  lest,  if  the  skill  to 
write  rightly  were  thus  lacking,  so  too  would  the  power  of 
rightly  comprehending  the  sacred  Scriptures  be  far  less  than 
was  fitting ;  and  we  all  know  that  though  verbal  errors  be 
dangerous,  errors  of  the  understanding  are  yet  more  so.    We 
exhort  you,  therefore,  not  only  not  to  neglect  the  study  of 
letters,  but  to  apply  yourselves   thereto  with  perseverance 
and  with  that  humility  which  is  well  pleasing  to  God ;  so 
that  you  may  be  able  to  penetrate  with  greater  ease  and 
certainty  the  mysteries  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.     For  as  these 
contain  images,  tropes,  and  similar  figures,  it  is  impossible 
to  doubt  that  the  reader  will  arrive  far  more  readily  at  the 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  FALACE.  99 

spiritual  sense  according  as  he  is  the  better  instructed  in     CHAP, 
learning.     Let  there,  therefore,  be  chosen  for  this  work  men  .     Ij   _, 
who  are  both  able  and  willing  to  learn,  and  also  desirous  of 
instructing  others;  and  let  them  apply  themselves  to  the  work 
with  a  zeal  equalling  the  earnestness  with  which  we  recom- 
mend it  to  them. 

'  It  is  our  wish  that  you  may  be  what  it  behoves  the 
soldiers  of  the  Church  to  be, — religious  in  heart,  learned  in 
discourse,  pure  in  act,  eloquent  in  speech ;  so  that  all  who 
approach  your  house  in  order  to  invoke  the  Divine  Master  or 
to  behold  the  excellence  of  the  religious  life,  may  be  edified  in 
beholding  you  and  instructed  in  hearing  you  discourse  or  chant, 
and  may  return  home  rendering  thanks  to  God  most  High. 

*  Fail  not,  as  thou  regardest  our  favour,  to  send  a  copy  of 
this  letter  to  all  thy  suffragans  and  to  all  the  monasteries ; 
and  let  no  monk  go  beyond  his  monastery  to  administer  justice 
or  to  enter  the  assemblies  and  the  voting-places.  Adieu.' l 

In  this  memorable  capitulary,  perhaps  the  most  import-  Alcuin's 
ant  document  of  the  Middle  Ages — '  the  charter  of  modern 
thought,'  as  one  writer  styles  it 2 — it  is  not  difficult  to  discern 
the  true  authorship.  Among  all  the  scholars  then  living, 
few,  we  apprehend,  could  have  thus  discoursed  of  the  intimate 
correspondence  between  correct  language  and  just  thought 
(a  foreshadowing,  it  would  almost  seem,  of  the  scholastic  es- 
timate of  the  functions  of  logic),  and  of  the  importance  of 
the  allegorical  element  in  the  Scriptures  ;  while  the  stipula- 
tion with  respect  to  what  may  be  termed  the  volitional 
element,  as  essential  to  success  in  teaching — in  the  require- 
ment that  the  instructor  shall  be  desirous  of  imparting 
knowledge 8 — points  to  one  of  the  best  features  in  the  monas- 
tic theory  of  education. 

This  capitulary  appears  to  have  been  issued  on  Charles' 
return  from  Augsburg,  where  he  had  just  received  the  sub- 
mission of  the  rebellious  Tassilo.  During  his  residence  at 

1  Constitutio  de  ftcholis  per  Mnyula  Episcopit^ft  Monatteria  imtituendis. 
Baluze,  i  201-4 ;  Pertz,  Legg.  i  62-3. 
8  Ampere,  iii  25. 

Et  desiderium  habeant  alios  instruendi.' 


H  2 


100 

CHAP. 

i. 

Charles 
obtains 
the  ser- 
vices of 
teachers  of 
singing, 
grammar, 
and  arith- 
metic from 
Home. 

Council  of 

Aachen, 

789. 

The 

Itoman 
method  of 
chanting 
enjoined. 

Defective 
state  of 
MSS.  at 
this 
period. 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

Eome,  in  the  preceding  months,  he  had  secured  the  services 
of  teachers  of  singing,  grammar,  and  arithmetic  ;  and  these 
were  now  sent  to  the  principal  different  monasteries  through- 
out the  kingdom  to  render  practical  aid  in  carrying  out  the 
reforms  indicated  in  the  royal  letter.  Two  years  later,  at 
the  great  council  held  at  Aachen  in  789,  finding,  it  would 
seem,  that  his  injunctions  had  not  been  sufficiently  carried 
out,  he  issued  more  precise  instructions.  '  Let  the  monks/ 
said  the  new  capitulary,  'make  themselves  thoroughly 
masters  of  the  Eoman' method  of  chanting,  and  observe 
this  method  in  the  services,  according  to  the  decree  of 
our  father  Pepin,  who  abolished  the  Gallican  method,  in 
order  that  he  might  place  himself  in  agreement  with  the 
Apostolic  see  and  promote  concord  in  God's  Church.' ' 

Among  the  most  glaring  results  of  the  state  of  things 
which  the  emperor  sought  to  remedy  was  the  number  of  in- 
correctly transcribed  copies  of  portions  of  the  Scriptures,  of 
breviaries  and  homilaries,  scattered  throughout  the  realm. 
Along  with  the  general  decline  of  learning,  the  monastic 
libraries  had  suffered  greatly  from  neglect ;  while  the  loss  of 
the  papyrus,  owing  to  the  occupation  of  Egypt  by  the 
Saracens,  had  largely  increased  the  costliness  of  the  necessary 
material. 

The  sacred  or  patristic  page,  turned  by  rude  unlettered 
hands,  became  mutilated  or  defaced.  Transcripts  became 
rarer ;  and  ignorance,  in  its  efforts  to  restore  the  text,  al- 
ready obscured  by  numerous  and  arbitrary  contractions, 
doubtless  often  committed  strange  blunders;  blunders  such 
as  afterwards  gave  rise  to  scarcely  less  ludicrous  misappre- 
hensions, on  the  part  of  half-informed  modern  writers,  as  to 
the  actual  state  of  learning  in  these  times — to  stories  like 
those  of  the  '  Benedic  mulis  et  mulabis  tuis '  of  bishop 

1  '  Quod  beatae  memoriae  genitor  noster  Pippinus  rex  decertavit  ut  fieret, 
quando  gallicauum  cantum  iulit  ob  unaniimtatem  Apostolicae  Sedis  et 
sanotae  Dei  Ecclesiae  pacificam  concordiain.'  Baluze,  i  715.  In  Ansegisus 
this  is  addressed  to  monastic  bodies ;  Pertz  (Lfyg.  i  66)  heads  the  article 
'  Omni  Clero/  Baluze, '  Omnibus  Cloricis.'  It  was  probably  issued  to  both 
orders  alike. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  101 

Meinwerc,  the  *  clam  gram '  of  bishop  Otto's  clerk,  and  our 
own  *  mumpsimus.' ' 

As  a  remedy  for  these  evils  Charles  sent  round  to  the  Charles 
churches  a  homilary,  or  collection  of  sermons,  corrected  by  corrected 
the  hand  of  Paulus  Diaconus  (at  that  time  probably  engaged  Homilary 
in  teaching  at  Metz),2  accompanied  by  the  following  instruc-  pared  for 
tions  :  *  Desirous  as  we  are  of  improving  the  condition  of  the  uso  *n  the 

,---,.  .  services 

churches,   we  impose  upon  ourselves  the  task  of  reviving,  of  the 
with  the  utmost  zeal,  the  study  of  letters,  well-nigh  extin-      urc  ' 
guished  through  the  neglect  of  our  ancestors.3     We  charge 
all  our  subjects,  as  far  as  they  may  be  able,  to  cultivate  the 
liberal  arts,  and  we  set  them  the  example.   We  have  already, 
God  helping,  carefully  corrected  the  books  of  the  Old  and    / , 
New  Testaments,  corrupted  through  the  ignorance  of  tran- 
scribers.    And  inasmuch  as  the  collection  of  homilies  for  the 
service  at  nocturns  was  full  of  errors  ...  we  have  willed  that 
these  same  should  be  revised  and  corrected  by  Paul  the  deacon, 
our  well-beloved  client ;  and  he  has  presented  us  with  copies 
of  readings,  adapted  to  every  feast  day,  carefully  purged  from 
error  and  sufficing  for  an  entire  year.' 

In  the  year  789,4  another  capitulary  was  circulated  en-  Capitu- 

IRI'IGS  re 

forcing  upon  the  clergy  the  necessity  for  raising  their  pro-  speeting 
fession  in  public  estimation  by  moral  lives,  and  directing  that  the 
candidates  for  the  priestly  office  should  be  sought  for  not 
only  from  among  the  servile  class,  but  among  the  sons  of  free- 
men.5    Successive  capitularies  repeated  and  emphasised  with 
greater  distinctness  the  same  injunctions.     At  a  council  at 
Aachen,  in  the  same  year,  the  standard  for  admission  to 
orders  was  authoritatively  fixed.     The  Capitulary  of  Frank- 

1  For  a  masterly  exposure  of  tbese  and  similar  exaggerations,  see 
Maitland,  The  Dark  Ages,  Essay  No.  8. 

"  Encyclica  de  Emendations  Librorum  et  Officiorum  Ecdesiagticorum 
(Pertz,  Legg.  i  44 ;  Baluze,  i  204-5).  If  we  accept  the  date  assigned  "by 
Pertz  to  this  capitular,  i.e.  782,  it  would  appear  to  have  been  among 
Charles'  earliest  measures  of  reform. 

3  '  Obliteratam  pene  majorum  nostroruni  desidia    reparare    vigilante 
studio  litterarum  eatagimtis  officinam.'  Ib. 

4  Capttvtare  AquisgraneiMe.     Baluze,  i  209-42. 

5  '  Non  solum  servilis  conditions  infantes  sed  etiam  ingenuorum  filios 
aggregent  sibique  socient.' 


102  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCU1N. 

fort  in  794  is  entirely  taken  up  with  regulations  for  the  dis- 
cipline of  monastic  bodies  and  the  clergy.  The  latter  are 
forbidden  to  enter  taverns,  and  it  is  also  required  that  no  one 
shall  be  ordained  a  priest  under  thirty  years  of  age.1  In 
the  instructions  given  to  the  missi  dominici  in  802,  it  is 
directed  tjiat  their  attention  shall  be  given  to  canonical 
societies,  to  see  that  the  rules  of  the  order  are  observed.1 
^n  a  capitulary  of  804  many  of  these  instructions  are  again 
789.  repeated.  At  the  same  time  the  actual  work  of  education 

Every         ypas  strenuously  pressed  on.      '  Let  every  monastery,'  says 


to  have  its  the  capitulary  of  789,  '  and  every  abbey  have  its  school,* 
Bchool.  where  boys  may  be  taught  the  Psalms,  the  system  of  musical 
notation,  singing,  arithmetic,  and  grammar;  and  let  the 
books  which  are  given  them  be  free  from  faults,  and  let  care 
be  taken  that  the  boys  do  not  spoil  them  either  when  read- 
ing or  writing.' 

Of  the  manner  in  which  the  movement  spread  through 

the  different  dioceses  and  was  aided  by  the  episcopal  order, 

we  are  presented  with  a  notable  example  in  Theodulfus,  the 

famous  bishop  of  Orleans.     In  the  year  797,  ten  years  after 

the  appearance  of  the  capitulary  addressed  by  Charles  to 

Thea-         Baugulfus,  Theodulfus  drew  up  a  similar  document  addressed 

his  capitu-  to  the  clergy  of  his  diocese.    Apart  from  his  ecclesiastical 

ciergy°pf  °  authority,  h.is  sentiments,  as  those  of  one  of  the  missi  domi- 

his  diocese.  nidy  would  naturally  cariy  great  weight  :  we   infer  indeed 

that  when  Alcuin  retired  to  Tours,  in  796,  Theodulfus  suc- 

ceeded him  as  a  kind  of  minister  of  education,  for  the  latter 

styles  him  '  the  father  of  the  vineyards,*  4  and  the  Orleans 

capitulary  appears  to  have  been  widely  adopted  in  other  dio- 

ceses.5 

He  ini-  This  document  is  remarkable  as  a  combination  of  lofty 

sentiment  and  practical  endeavour.     St.  Benedict  himself 


free  educa-  COuld  not  have  impeached  the  argument  in  justification  of 

1  Capitular*  Frankfordiente.    Baluze,  i  261-270. 

2  L'apiiuln  data  missis  dominicis.    Ibid,  i  360. 
*  '  Et  ut  scholae  legentium  puerorum  fient.' 

4  '  Modo,  miserante  Deo,  meliori  populo  secundus  praeest  David,  et  sub 
eo  nobilior  Zabdias  cellis  praeest  vinearum.'    Migne,  c  804. 

8  See  TModulfe,  Eveque  tfOrUans,  par  M.  1'Abbe"  Baunard.    Paris,  1860. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  103 

study,  as  'a  means  whereby  the  life  of  the  righteous  is 
nourished  and  ennobled,  and  the  man  himself  fortified  against 
temptation.'  But  the  feature  that  has  chiefly  redeemed  this 
document  from  oblivion  is  the  clause  wherein  provision  is 
made  for  the  gratuitous  instruction  of  the  children  of  the  laity. 
Theodulfus  required  his  clergy  to  open  schools  in  every 
town  and  village  in  the  diocese,  and  to  receive  '  the  children 
of  the  faithful '  for  instruction,  demanding  in  return  no  pay- 
ment, though  permitted  to  accept  a  gift  spontaneously 
offered.1  Such  is  probably  the  earliest  instance  on  record, 
in  the  history  of  Western  Christianity,  that  answers  to  the 
free  parish  school  of  modern  times. 

We  can  scarcely  doubt,  with  the  foregoing  evidence  before 
us,  that  the  work  of  reform,  urged  on  by  the  strong  will  of 
Charles  and  directed  by  the  experience  of  Alcuin,  progressed 
with  marvellous  rapidity ;  and  the  facts  already  cited  will 
enable  us  to  form  a  fairly  accurate  estimate  of  the  scope 
and  nature  of  the  work.  It  has  been  extravagantly  extolled 
and  it  has  also  been  unjustly  depreciated.  Gibbon,  whose  Criticisms 
jealousy  of  every  measure  assignable  to  ecclesiastical  in-  andLo- 
fluences  led  him  to  disparage  the  whole  movement,  has  ob- 
served,  with  exaggerated  antithesis,  that '  the  emperor  strove 
to  acquire  the  practice  of  writing,  which  every  peasant  now 
learns  in  his  infancy.*  An  enthusiastic  biographer  of  Alcuin, 
on  the  other  hand,  invites  us  to  believe  that  *  there  was  a 
more  universal  education  secured  to  the  lower  orders  at  the 
conclusion  of  the  eighth  century  than  France  can  boast  of  in 
the  nineteenth.'  *  It  is  not  difficult  to  see  that  the  real  truth 
lies  somewhere  between  the  theory  advanced  by  the  par- 
tiality of  the  professor  and  that  implied  by  the  prejudice  of 
the  historian. 

Of  Alcuin's  general  success  and  satisfaction  with  the 
results  of  his  labours  there  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt ;  and 
though  the  interval  that  separated  Charles  intellectually  from 

1  '  Presbyteri  per  villas  et  vices  scholas  habeant,  et  si  quilibet  fidelium 
BUGS  parvulos  ad  discendas  litteras  eis  commendare  vult,  eos  suscipere  non 
renuant,  sed  cum  summa  charitate  eos  doceant,  etc.'  Cossart,  xiii  998. 

3  Lorenz,  Alcuin'$  Leben,  p.  38  (written  1829). 


104  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

CllAP.     the  ablest  of  his  courtiers  was  considerable,  yet  it  is  certain 
-     L     .  that  the  circle  of  able  men  whom  his  discerning  genius  drew 
round  him  far  surpassed  in  brilliancy  that  which  surrounded 
Offa  or  Alfred  the  Great.     But  however  little  cause  the  court 
instructor  might  have  to  complain  of  apathy  or  insufficient 
support,  we  gather  from  more  than  one  circumstance  that  he 
Cimim-       was  beginning  to  grow  somewhat  weary  of  his  position  and 
thHt°e         kis   work.      It  is  not  difficult  to  see   that  the   continual 
induce         questioning  and  cross-questioning  which  he  underwent  in  the 
wish  to       Palace  School  often  overtaxed  both  his  patience  and  his  re- 
retire  from  sources.     M.  Monnier  indeed  inclines  to  the  belief,  that  in 

bis  post. 

the  dialogue  on  grammar,  of  which  an  outline  has  been 
given,  it  was  the  design  of  the  much-harassed  instructor 
to  exhibit,  in  the  characters  of  the  youthful  Frank  and  the 
youthful  Saxon,  the  kind  of  ordeal  to  which  he  had  been 
subjected  by  his  royal  host.1  There  are  certainly  some  pas- 
sages which  almost  suggest  that  nothing  but  a  sense  of  self- 
respect  and  of  what  was  due  to  so  august  a  presence,  pre- 
vented Alcuin  from  turning  on  his  merciless  interrogator  much 
in  the  fashion  in  which  our  great  English  lexicographer 
more  than  once  resented  the  importunity  which  ultimately 
immortalised  him.  In  Charles,  the  ardour  of  the  student 
seems  sometimes  to  have  triumphed  over  the  theory  of 
Hisordeais  noblesse  oblige.  He  would  suddenly  bring  forward,  side  by 
Palace  side,  two  explanations,  wrung,  at  long  intervals,  from  his 
School.  instructor,  and  ask  how  this  could  be,  and  also  that — when  it 
needed  no  knowledge  of  art  dialectical  or  any  other  art,  in 
fact  nothing  but  the  light  of  nature,  to  see  that  the  two 
statements  were  absolutely  incompatible.  The  dignified 
ecclesiastic,  accustomed  to  deliver  his  decisions  at  York  un- 
challenged, winced  sadly  under  this  treatment.  Long  after, 
when  he  had  effected  his  escape  to  Tours,  and  another 
teacher  was  enlightening  the  Palace  School,  he  candidly  ad- 
mitted certain  blunders,  but  suggests  that  they  are  to  be 
condoned.  '  The  horse,'  he  says,  '  which  has  four  legs  often 

1  '  On  pent  dire  qu' Alcuin  a  voulu  repre"senter  ainsi  et  lea  importunite's  de 
son  principal  e"leve,  et  les  services  d  instruction  qu'il  lui  a  rendus  lui-meuie.' 
Monnier,  p.  90. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  105 

stumbles ;   how  much  more  must  man,  who  has  but  one 
tongue,  often  trip  in  speech.5 1 

Other  sources  of  disquiet  were  not  wanting.     The  fre-  Frequent 
quent  migrations  of  the  Palace  School,  as  it  moved  from  JOU 
Aachen  to  Thionville,  from  Thionville  to  Worms,  and  thence 
on  to  Mayence,  Frankfort,  or  Ratisbon,  were  peculiarly  irk- 
some to  one  whose  habits  had  been  formed  in  the  monotony 
of  canonical  life.     And  if  to  these  journeys  are  added  those 
to  the  abbeys  committed  to  his  charge  (one  in  the  Gatinais, 
the  other  near  Troyes),2  we  can  easily  enter  into  his  com- 
plaint  that  his   studies   are   sadly  interrupted  by  secular 
business,  long  journeys,  and  the  impossibility  of  carrying  any 
large  number  of  books  with  him  on  such  occasions.3    Then 
again  there  was  the  excitement  that  necessarily  followed 
upon  the  setting  forth  of  Charles  and  his  generals  to  the 
seat  of  war,  aud  upon  their  return.     Since  782,  not  a  year  Excite- 
had  elapsed  that  had  not  been  marked  by  conflict  within  ^gssive 
some  portion  or  other  of  the  Prankish  boundaries ;  while  the  wars, 
severity  with  which  Charles  treated  the  vanquished,  especially 
the  Saxons,  completely  shocked  the  gentle  Alcuin,  who,  when 
safe  at  Tours,  did  not  fail  to  plead  for  the  extension  of  greater  _    .      . 
clemency.     Even  in  the  monarch's  home  life  there  must  have  the  court 
been  much  which  he  could  not  fail  to  observe  with  pain  and   l  e* 
disapproval.     For  it  was  not  a  moral  court,  even  when  tried 
only  by  the  standard  of  that  age.   Charles  himself  must  often 
have   scandalised  the  saintly  ecclesiastic  by  those  laxities 
which  tarnish   an   otherwise   heroic  character.     Then   too 
there  were  the  royal  daughters,  whom  the  foolish  old  father 
would  not  suffer  to  marry,4  and  who,  breathing  the  atmo- 

1  Epigt.  84 ;  Migne,  c  27. 

9  ' . .  .  et  sic  ad  St.  Lupum.'  Epist.  66.  '  Et  inde  ad  sanctum  Lupum,  et 
ibi  maxime  spero  me  manere  Septembrium  mensem  totum '  .  .  ,  '  et  sic 
Octobrio  mense  ad  Ferrarias  sanctum  Fetrum  visitare,  et  ibi  usque  ad 
medium  ilium  mensem  spero  me  ease.'  Epist.  67;  Migne,  c  255,  266. 
These  letters  belong  to  the  year  798 ;  but  it  is  not  probable  that  Alcuin 
would  neglect  to  visit  bis  abbeys  during  the  earlier  part  of  his  residence  in 
Frankland. 

3  Prof,  ad  Genesin.    Migne,  c  517. 

4  A  policy  which  Diimmler,  however,  defends  on  political  grounds.    See 
Gesch.  d.  Ortfrdnkitchen  Reich*,  p.  282. 


106 


He  revisits 

England. 


Disagree- 
ment be- 
tween the 
Mercian 
and 

Frankish 
courts. 


CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

sphere  of  a  luxurious  palace  and  taking  pattern  by  his  own 
sad  example,  might  scarcely  but  go  astray — the  coronatae 
columbae,1  as  Alcuin  terms  them,  when  warning  his  country- 
man and  successor  Fredegis  against  their  charms,  and  whom 
Lewis  the  Pious,  on  his  accession,  in  his  honest  efforts  to 
reform  the  court,  sent  packing  to  a  nunnery. 

The  attractions  of  a  court  rarely  retain  their  fascination 
with  men  past  middle  life,  and  that  Alcuin,  whose  education 
and  former  habits  had  been  those  of  a  recluse,  should  already 
have  longed  for  retirement  and  repose  can  be  small  matter 
for  surprise.  A  visit  to  England  in  the  year  790  afforded  the 
first  respite  from  hia  labours.  He  had  left  his  native  land 
bound  by  solemn  promise  to  return,  and  may  even  have  con- 
templated making  his  return  permanent.  A  small  monastery 
on  the  banks  of  the  Humber,  founded  by  St.  Willibrod,  was 
his  by  inheritance,  and  he  was  still  its  nominal  abbat.  There 
were,  however,  circumstances  which  concurred  to  render  his 
sojourn  in  England  a  somewhat  anxious  time.  Mercia,  under 
Offa's  rule,  had  now  reached  the  culminating  point  of  her 
fortunes,  and  her  relations  with  Frankland  had,  for  some 
years  past,  been  becoming  less  friendly.  The  Carolingian 
court  was  a  harbour  of  refuge  for  her  foes — for  young  Egbert, 
driven,  from  his  hereditary  kingdom  of  Wessex  by  Offa's  son- 
in-law  Brihtric ;  and,  at  a  later  period,  .for  Eadwulf,  when 
defeated  in  his  contest  for  the  crown  of  Northumbria  by 
another  of  Offa's  sons-in-law,  Ethelred.  It  was  believed  that 
a  plot  had  been  detected  for  calling  in  Frankish  aid  to  the 
assistance  of  Kent  in  her  struggle  with  her  too  powerful 
neighbour.  A  refusal  on  the  part  of  Charles  to  permit  his 
daughter  Bertha  to  marry  Offa's  son  had  completed  the 
rupture  between  the  two  courts.2  Merchants  trading  between 
the  two  countries  had  already  been  warned  that  all  inter- 
course was  suspended,  when  Alcuin  crossed  the  Channel.8 

1  'Non  veniant  coronatae  columbae  ad  fenestras  tuas,  quae  volunt  per 
cameras  palatii.'  Epist.  136  ;  Migne,  c  375. 

8  Chron.  Fomtanett.  c.  16;  Bouquet,  Scriptoret,  v  315. 

*  'Sed  iiescio  quid  nobis  venturum  sit.  Aliquid  oniin  dissensionia, 
diabolico  fomeuto  iiiilainuiante,  nuper  inter  regem  Carolum  et  regem  Oifam 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  PALACE.  107 

It  was  at  this  juncture  that  he  undertook  to  mediate  between     CHAP. 

the  two  monarchs.     The  details  of  the  negotiations  have  not  , ^i . 

reached  us ;  but  there  appears  to  be  good  reason  for  believing  War 
that  his  practical  good  sense,  together  with  the  respect  in-  ^,t-f^8by 
spired  by  his  character,  mainly  averted  the  calamity  of  war ;  efforts. 
and  when,  after  an  absence  of  nearly  two  years,  he  returned 
again  to   Frankland,  he  had  added  another  claim  to  the 
gratitude  of  that  country  and  its  ruler. 

Events  in  England  from  this  time  offered  small  prospect  Subse- 
of  tranquil  repose.  The  murder  of  Ethelbert,  the  pious  king  <luen*_ . 
of  the  East  Anglians,  by  Offa,  and  that  of  Osred,  the  exiled  England. 
king  of  the  Northumbrians,  by  Ethelred,  indicate  the  dis- 
turbed state  of  the  political  atmosphere.  In  the  following 
year,  the  year  793,  to  quote  the  language  of  the  Chronicle, 
*  the  ravaging  of  heathen  men  lamentably  destroyed  God's 
church  at  Lindisfarne,' '  and  northern  England  became  the 
theatre  of  a  continued  series  of  rapine  and  slaughter.  Bede's 
early  home,  St.  Aidan's  Holy  Isle,  were  scenes  of  ruin  and 
desolation.  The  Northumbrian  exile,  in  the  anguish  of  his 
heart,  exclaimed  that  St.  Cuthbert  had  forsaken  his  own ; 
in  his  dismay,  he  took  up  the  strain  chanted  two  centuries 
before  in  Italy  by  Gregory,  and  was  fain  to  interpret  the 
appalling  anarchy  and  misery  that  prevailed  as  the  fulfil- 
ment of  Daniel's  prophecy  and  ominous  of  the  approaching 
end  of  all  things  ! 

It  was  at  Charles'  earnest  request  that  Alcuin  returned  The  Car- 
to  Frankland — a  request  urged  under  circumstances  that,  to 
the  latter,  probably  seemed  to  render  his  acquiescence  little 
less  than  an  imperative  duty.  Heresy  was  shewing  a  bold 
front  in  the  Frankish  dominions.  The  Adoptionists,  headed 
by  the  Spanish  bishops,  Felix  and  Elipandus,  were  occasion- 
ing grave  anxiety  to  the  orthodox  party ;  while  the  dispute 
respecting  the  eastern  practice  of  image  worship  represented 

exortum  est,  ita  ut  utrinque  navigatio  interdicta  negotiantibus  cesset.    Sunt     . 
qui  dicunt,  DOS  pro  pace  in  illas  partes  mittendos.'    Ad  Colcum  lectwem  in 
Scotia.    Migne,  ci  142. 

1  English  Chronicle,  sub  anno.  '  Locus  cunctis  in  Brittannia  venerabilior, 
paganis  gentibus  datur  ad  depredandum/  is  Alcuin's  comment.  Alcuin., 
p.  181. 


108  CHARLES  THE  GREAT  AND  ALCUIN. 

a  yet  more  pressing  difficulty.  Of  Alcuin's  right  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  author  of  the  Carolines — that  memorable  effort 
of  Iconoclasm — there  can  be  little  doubt.1  Idolatry  in  its 
grosser  and  tangible  forms  was  always  an  object  of  his 
severest  denunciations  ;  arid  if  some  difficulty  is  presented  in 
the  fact  that  one  possessed  by  such  deep  reverence  for  the 
papal  authority  should  have  ventured  to  contravene  the 
decrees  of  Adrian  and  to  assert  with  so  much  boldness  the 
theory  of  conciliar  independence,  an  explanation  may  be  found 
in  the  supposition  that  the  Carolines  are  the  offspring  not 
only  of  Alcuin's  learning  and  literary  skill,  but  also  of  Charles* 
vigorous  thought  and  policy.  The  signal  honour  conferred, 
as  we  have  already  seen,  on  the  former  at  the  Council  of 
Frankfort,  proves  that  throughout  its  proceedings  he  was  the 
ready  and  willing  interpreter  of  the  royal  pleasure. 
Alcuin  The  year  794  may  be  looked  upon  as  marking  the  time 


receives 


the  abbacy  when  Alcuin's  reputation  was  at  its  highest.  His  fame  was 
of  St.  <  in  aii  the  Churches  ; '  and  few  could  have  been  found  to  call 
Tours.  in  question  his  signal  services  to  both  religion  and  learning 
or  his  just  claim  to  distinguished  reward.  As  yet,  however, 
no  adequate  recompense  had  been  vouchsafed  him.  His  own 
avowal,  indeed,  is  that  no  hope  of  worldly  advantage,  but  a 
simple  sense  of  duty  to  the  Church,  had  originally  brought 
him  to  Frankland  and  detained  him  there.  On  the  other 
hand,  it  is  almost  certain  that,  in  resigning  his  office  as 
scholasticus  at  York,  he  had  sacrificed  his  succession  to  the 
archbishopric.  It  is  not  improbable,  therefore,  that  Charles 
had  already  intimated  that  on  the  next. vacancy  in  the  abbacy 
of  St.  Martin  of  Tours  the  post  would  be  offered  to  Alcuin. 
The  latter,  writing  to  the  brethren  of  that  venerable  society 
in  795,  openly  confesses  that  he  would  gladly  be  of  their 
number ; 2  and  the  opportunity  arrived  sooner  perhaps  than 
he  anticipated,  for  in  the  following  year  the  abbat  Itherius 
died,  and  Alcuin  was  forthwith  nominated  his  successor. 

.*  Frobenius  considered  that  the  style  of  the  Carolines  was  that  of 
another  pen  than  Alcuin's ;  but  see  Dummler's  note,  p.  220. 
*  *  Op  tans  unus  esse  ex  vobis.'    Epist.  23 ;  Migne,  c  176. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ALCUIN   AT   TOURS  ;   OR,   THE   SCHOOL   OP   THE   MONASTERY. 

THE  transfer  of  Alcuin  from  th'e  Palace  School  to  the  abbacy 
at  Tours  was  attended  by  results  of  no  slight  importance. 
On  the  one  hand,  it  enabled  him  to  give  full  and  practical 
expression  to  his  theory  of  monastic  discipline  and  educa- 
tion ;  on  the  other,  it  opened  up  the  way  for  the  introduction 
of  other  teachers  at  the  royal  court,  some  of  whom,  as  we 
shall  hereafter  see,  held  doctrines  little  in  harmony  with 
those  of  their  predecessor. 

Of  his  real  sense  of  relief  and  satisfaction  with  his  new  The  abbey 
sphere  of  duty  there  can  be  no  doubt.  He  had  received  what  °in  ^  ar" 
was,  perhaps,  the  most  marked  recognition  of  his  services  Tours. 
that  it  was  in  Charles'  power  to  bestow.  Already  the  abbey 
was  the  wealthiest  in  Frankland,  and  the  adjacent  cathedral 
the  most  splendid  of  all  her  shrines.  In  days  gone  by,  Tours 
and  Poitiers  had  contended  fiercely  for  the  relics  of  St. 
Martin;1  the  coveted  prize  had  fallen  to  the  former  city, 
and  its  possession  thenceforth  appealed  with  singular  force 
to  the  superstition  of  the  time.  Neither  St.  Eemy  nor 
St.  Denys,  as  yet,  could  vie  in  saintly  fame  with  the  vene- 
rated founder  of  monasticism  in  Gaul.  Tours  rivalled  Borne 
itself  as  a  centre  of  religious  pilgrimage ;  both  monastery 
and  cathedral  were  lavishly  enriched  by  the  devout  muni- 
ficence of  the  Carolingian  princes ;  and  long  after,  when 
Hugh  Capet  sat  on  the  throne  of  Charles  the  Great,  he  wore 
the  ecclesiastical  cope  which  bespoke  him  the  abbat  of 
St.  Martin  of  Tours.  The  landed  possessions  of  the  monastery 
were  immense,  fully  equalling  in  extent  an  average  modern 

1  Gregory  of  Tours,  Hist.  Franc.  IV  xxxiv. 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 

department  ;  the  archbishop  of  Toledo  made  it  a  reproach 
to  Alcuin,  that  he  was  the  master  of  20,000  slaves.1 

With  resources  like  these,  it  might  well  seem  that  the 
guardian  of  the  interests  and  traditions  of  the  faith  might 
find  full  scope  for  every  purpose.  Here  learning,  treading 
ever  in  the  safe  and  narrow  path  marked  out  by  Gregory  and 
Bede,  might  marshal  illustrious  recruits  destined  to  bear  her 
banners  throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Charles5  vast 
domains.  Here,  on  the  banks  of  the  rushing  Loire,  the  life 
of  which  St.  Benedict  drew  the  outlines  might  be  lived  again 
in  all  its  purity  and  power.  Here,  on  the  boundary  line  'twixt 
docile  Neustria  and  half-tamed  Aquitaine,  religion  might  win 
new  converts  and  achieve  a  conquest  with  which  those  of 
Charles  Martel  or  his  greater  grandson  might  not  compare  ! 
His  in-  Such,  as  there  is  sufficient  evidence  to  shew,  were  the 


creasing      a«ms  Qf  ^Icum's  ambition,  as  he  looked  forward  to  the  crown- 

3  113161*1  [V 

in  relation  ing  work  of  his  career.  His  theory  of  education  had  not 
literature!  expanded  with  enlarged  experience.  No  visions  of  science, 
spreading  and  developing  in  the  coming  years,  gilded  the 
sunset  of  his  days.  Something  rather  of  self-reproach  is 
discernible  in  his  correspondence  for  so  much  time  and 
labour  already  wasted  on  secular  knowledge.  Vergil,  whom 
he  had  studied  with  loving  ardour  as  a  boy,  now  seemed  to 
him  only  a  collection  of  'lying  fables  '  unfit  to  be  read  by 
those  devoted  to  the  religious  life.  (  The  sacred  poets  are 
enough  for  you,'  he  said  to  the  young  monks  at  Tours  ;  '  you 
have  no  need  to  sully  your  minds  with  the  rank  luxuriance 
of  Vergil's  verse.'  2  He  rebuked  even  his  friend  Rigbodus 
for  knowing  the  twelve  books  of  the  Aeneid  better  than  the 
four  Evangelists.3  When  Charles  wrote  to  ply  him  with 
questions  upon  some  new  difficulties,  he  could  not  forbear, 
in  his  reply,  from  mildly  expressing  his  surprise  that  *  his 
dearest  David  '  should  wish  to  involve  him  again  in  '  those 

1  See  Monnier's  interesting  sketch,  '  Un  abbe*  seigneur  au  huitierne  siecle,' 
in  his  Charlemagne  et  Alcuin,  pt.  iii,  c.  4. 

3  '  Sufficiunt  divini  poetae  vobia,  nee  egetis  luxuriosa  sermoms  Virgilii 
vos  pollui  facundia.'  Alcuini  Vita,  c.  19  ;  Migne,  c  101. 

8  '  Utinara  evangelica  qnattuor  nou  Aeneades  duodecim  pectiis  compleant 
tuum.'  Epist.  215,  Ahuiniana,  p  4. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY. 

old  questions  of  the  Palace  School,  and  to  summon  back  to     CHAP, 
the  contending  camps,  and  to  the  task  of  quieting  the  minds   .     IT-    ^ 
of  the  nmtinous  soldiery,  the  veteran  who  had  served  his 
time  ; '  '  especially,'  he  adds,  '  as  you  have  by  you  the  tomes 
both  of  secular  learning  and  of  the  Church's  wisdom,  wherein 
the  true  answers  may  be  found  to  all  your  queries.' l 

Something  of  the  enthusiasm  of  his  early  days  came  back  His  mea- 
to  the  weary  old  man  as  he  welcomed  at  St.  Martin  the  £"[0^ 
youthful  neophytes  who,  attracted  by  his  fame,  came  seek- 
ing admission  within  the  abbey  walls.     His  first  aim  was  to 
provide  them  with  a  good  library,  such  a  library  as  he  had 
himself  watched  over  at  York  ;  and  we  accordingly  find  him 
writing  to  Charles,  soon  after  his  installation,  to  beg  that  he 
may  be  allowed  to  send  some  of  the  young  monks  to  England, 
who  might  '  bring  back  to  France  the  flowers  of  Britain,' 
*  so  that  these  may  diffuse  their  fragrance  and  display  their 
colours  at  Tours  as  well  as  at  York.' 2     *  In  the  morning  of  His  letter 
my  life,'  he  says,  in  the  same  letter,  *  I  sowed  in  Britain ;  to  Charle9< 
and  now,  in  the  evening  of  that  life,  when  my  blood  begins 
to  chill,  1  cease  not  to  sow  in  France,  earnestly  praying  that, 
by  God's  grace,  the  seed  may  spring  up  in  both  lands.3    As 
for  my  own  frail  frame,  I  solace  myself  with  the  thought  to 
which  St.  Jerome,  when  writing  to  Nepotianus,  gives  expres- 
sion ;  and  reflect  that  all  the  powers  might  well  decline  with 
old  age,  but  that,  although  the  rest  wane,  wisdom  augments 
in  strength.'     What  books  his  deputies  brought  back  from 
York  we  have  no  evidence  to  shew,  but  we  may  safely  assume 
that  the  collection  did  not  include  a  copy  of  Martianus  Capella. 

The  reputation  of  the  monastery  of  St.  Martin  in  former 
times  harmonised  well  with  Alcuin's  design  of  making  it  a 
model  for  the  religious  life  and  discipline  throughout  Frank- 
land.  It  had  once  been  famous  for  both  its  learning  and  its 
austere  rule.  Sulpicius  Severus,  in  his  life  of  the  founder, 
tells  us  that  even  the  greatest  cities  preferred  that  their 
superior  clergy  should  be  recruited  from  those  who  had  been 

1  Epist.  82  ;  Migne,  c  2GG.  8  Epist.  43  ;  Migne,  c  208. 

8  '  Mane  florentibus  per  aetatem  studiis  seminavi  in  Britannia.  Nunc 
yero  frigescente  sanguine  quasi  vespere  in  Francia  semiuare  non  cesso. 
Utraque  euim,  Dei  gratia  donante,  oriri  optans.'  Ibid,  c  209. 


112 


His  repre- 
sentations 
to  Charles 
somewhat 
at  variance 
•with  his 
actual 
discipline. 


Story 
told  of 
Sigulfus. 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 

educated  at  St.  Martin ; l  and  its  aristocratic  associations 
are  probably  indicated  by  the  fact  that  its  members,  in  their 
leisure  hours,  confined  themselves  entirely  to  the  scholarly 
labours  of  the  scriptorium.  Even  this  occupation,  however, 
was  discarded  by  the  older  monks,  who  devoted  themselves 
solely  to  prayer.2 

There  is  good  reason  for  concluding  that,  in  the  inter- 
pretation given  by  Alcuin  to  the  Benedictine  rule,  the  classic 
authors — whose  names  occupy  so  prominent  a  place  in  his 
description  of  the  library  at  York — were  almost  entirely  for- 
bidden, at  least  to  the  younger  monks.  It  is  true  that,  in 
the  letter  to  Charles 3  above  quoted,  he  says,  that,  *  in  com- 
pliance with  the  royal  instructions  and  good  pleasure,'  he 
shall  give  to  some  *  the  honey  of  the  sacred  writings,'  *  shall 
gladden  others  with  the  vintage  of  the  ancient  learning,'  and 
mete  out  to  others  *  the  apples  of  grammatical  subtlety ;  * 
but  it  appears  not  improbable  that  he  concealed,  to  some 
extent,  from  his  royal  patron  those  severer  canons  which 
closed  to  the  junior  students  at  St.  Martin  the  page  of  pagan 
fancy  and  legend.  It  is  certain,  at  any  rate,  that  an  incident 
recorded  by  Alcuin's  unknown  biographer  clashes  somewhat 
with  the  foregoing  representations.  Sigulfus,  along  with 
two  others  of  the  younger  monks — Aldricus  and  Adalbert, 
afterwards  abbat  of  Ferrieres — endeavoured,  notwithstand- 
ing the  formal  prohibition,  to  carry  on  the  study  of  Vergil 
unknown  to  the  abbat.  They  believed  that  they  had  effec- 
tually guarded  against  detection  j  but  one  day  Sigulfus  re- 
ceived  a  summons  to  Alcuin's  presence.  *  How  is  this 
Yergilian,'  said  the  abbat,  l  that  unknown  to  me,  and  con- 
trary to  my  express  command,  thou  hast  begun  to  study 
Yergil  ?  '  The  astonished  monk  threw  himself  at  his  supe- 
rior's feet,  and  promised  from  that  day  forth  to  study  Yergil 
no  more.4  He  was  dismissed  with  a  severe  reprimand  j  and 

1  '  Quae  enira  esset  civitas  aut  ecclesia,  quae  non  sibi  de  Martini  monas- 
terio  cuperet  sacerdotem?  '     Sulp.  Sev.  Viin  S,  Martini,  Migne,  xx  1GG. 

2  '  Ars  ibi,  exceptis  scriptoribus,  nulla  habebatur ;  cui  tcuuen  operi  minor 


aetas  deputabatur ;  majores  oration!  vacabant.' 

3  Epist.  43 ;   Migne,  c  208. 

4  Alcuini  Vita,  Migne,  c  101. 


Ibid. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY. 


113 


it  may  be  inferred  that  all  three  laid  the  lesson  well  to  heart, 
for  two  of  the  number  lived  to  merit  and  receive  Alcuin' s 
warmest  approval  and  praise.1 

Over  the  whole  discipline  of  the  monastery  Alcuin  watched 
with  untiring  vigilance.  The  points  on  which  he  especially 
insisted  were,  a  stricter  observance  of  the  Benedictine  rule 
and  the  cultivation  of  sacred  learning.  He  was  unceasing 
in  his  exhortations  to  nightly  vigils,  to  humility,  obedience, 
and  chastity.  Verses  full  of  wise  precepts  were  suspended 
in  the  refectory  and  the  dormitories.  He  gave  careful 
supervision  to  the  work  of  the  transcribers,2  whose  art  would 
appear  to  have  sadly  degenerated.  Writing  to  Charles,  in 
the  year  800,  he  complains  that  the  use  of  full~points,  and, 
in  fact,  punctuation  generally,  had  become  almost  entirely 
neglected.  He  hoped,  however,  to  effect  a  reform  in  this  as 
in  other  matters :  '  licet  parum  proficiens,'  he  says,  '  cum 
Turonica  quotidie  puguo  rusticitate/  3 

The  fame  of  his  teaching  attracted  disciples  not   only 
from  all  Frankland,  but  even  from  across  the  Channel.     From 
England   they    came   in   such  numbers   as    to   excite   the  England. 
jealousy  of    the   Neustrians.      One   day   an    Anglo-Saxon  Envy 
priest 4  knocked  at  the  gate  of  the  monastery,  and  while  he  °* the 
waited  without,  his  appearance  and  dress  were  eyed  by  four  trians. 
of  the  monks  who  were  standing  by.     They  imagined,  says 
the  narrator,  that  he  would  not  understand  their  speech,  a.nd 
he  overheard  one  of  them  say,  '  Here  is  another  Briton  or 
Irishman  come  to  see  the  Briton  inside.     The  Lord  deliver 
this  monastery  from  these  British,  for  they  swarm  hither  like 
bees  to  their  hive  ! ' 

1  Of  Sigidfus  Alcuin  says  that  he  was '  aacrae  lectionis  studiosissimus ; '  of 
Adalbert, '  bonam  habuit  voluntateni  et  hmnilitatem,  seu  in  servitio '  Dei, 
seu  etiam  in  lectionis  studio.'    Alouini  Vita ;  Praef.  in  Genesin,  Migne,  c 
516  ;  see  also  letter  to  Amo,  c  295. 

2  { Pour  transcrive  lea  manuscrits,  1'abbe  de  Tours  mit  en  usage  le  petit 
caractere  romain,   plus  beau  et  plus  lisible  que  la  pesante  ecriture  des 
Merovingiens  :  c'est  ce  qu'on  appelle  Vccriture  Caroline.''    Mounier,  p.  243. 

3  Mieme,  c  816. 

4  '  Presbyter  Enpel-Saxo.'   Ib.  c  102.    An  apparent  exception  to  the  rule 
laid  down  by  Mr.  Freeman — that '  the  name  by  which  our  forefathers  really 
knew  themselves  and  by  which  they  were  known  to  other  nations  was 
"  English  "  and  110  other'    Norman  Conquest,  i  536  (2nd  edit.). 

I 


114 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 


CHAP. 
II. 

*— — ,  ••  —• 

Alcuin'a 
preference 
for  his 
own  coun- 
trymen. 


Difference 
in  this 
respect 
between 
him  and 
Charles. 


It  is   not  improbable   that  this  jealousy  was  to   some 
extent  stimulated  by    the    preference  which,  either  from 
expediency  or  inclination,  Alcuin  evidently  entertained  for 
his  own  countrymen.     It  was  Witzo,  one  of  his  companions 
from  York  to  Aachen,  who  taught  for  a  time  as  his  a.pproved 
successor  in  the   Palace  School.     Fredegis,    who  had  also 
been  educated  at  York,  afterwards  succeeded  to  the  same 
post  and  was   abbat,   after  Alcuin,  at  Tours.     Liudger,  a 
native  indeed  of  Friesland,  but  one  of  Alcuin's  scholars  in 
England,  was  raisod  by  Charles,  at  his  former  instructor's 
suggestion,  to  preside  over  the  newly  created  see  of  Miinster. 
Sigulfus,  the  disciple  most  honoured  by  Alcuin's  confidence, 
was  his  chosen  successor  at  Ferrieres.     The  impression  that 
we  thus  derive,  of  a  certain  amount  of  national  prejudice  on 
Alcuin's  part,  serves  to  illustrate  the  difference  between  his 
character  and  that  of  Charles.     The  latter  in  no  way  shared 
the  feeling  with  which  the  young  Neustrians  at  Tours  re- 
garded the  new-comers  from  beyond  the  seas.     To  quote  the 
expression  of  Einhard,  '  he  loved  the  foreigner,' — exhibiting, 
in   a   marked  degree,  a   characteristic  rarely  absent  from 
administrative  genius  of  the  highest  order,  the  passion  for 
studying  the  dissimilar. 

But  just  as  it  was  to  this  feature  in  Charles'  character 
that  Alcuin,  in  common  with  many  of  his  countrymen,  was 
indebted  for  his  cordial  reception  at  the  Frankish  court,  so, 
not  long  after  his  retirement  to  Tours,  the  same  tendency,  on 
the  part  of  his  royal  patron,  began  to  manifest  itself  in  a 
manner  that  occasioned  him  no  small  anxiety.  The  sym- 
pathy which  welcomed  the  Anglo-Saxon  could  also  extend 
itself  to  the  Scot ;  the  enquiring  intellect  which  listened  with 
so  much  eagerness  to  the  teaching  of  the  school  at  York, 
was  not  content  to  ignore,  as  mysteriously  heterodox,  the 
ancient  doctrine  of  Lindisfarne ;  and  thus  there  now  ensued 
an  episode  in  the  history  of  the  Palace  School  which  requires 
that  we  should  turn  aside  for  a  moment  from  our  main 
narrative,  to  note  some  of  the  most  remarkable  features  in  the 
history  of  a  memorable  though  almost  forgotten  movement. 
We  have  already  adverted  to  the  fact  that  a  very  different 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTEKY. 

school  of  theology  from  that  of  Boniface  and  Alcuin  had     CHAP, 
been  represented  in  Frankland  in  the  person  of  Columban.1   ^    IL    ^ 
So  far  as  it  is  possible  to  discern  the  facts  in  a  singularly  The  Irish 
obscure  period,  it  would  appear  probable  that  the  better  in-  ™^sjn 
fluences  of  Cassian's  teaching,  as  preserved  and  transmitted  the  sixth 
by  the  Itisulani,  had  found  their  way  to  the  monasteries  of  seventh 
Ireland.     In  striking  contrast  to  the  fate  that  overtook  the  centime*, 
great   foundations  in  Frankland,    these    monasteries    were 
equally  distinguished  by  their  material  prosperity  and  their 
devotion  to  letters ;  and  the  writers  of  the  age  often  allude 
•with  enthusiasm  to  the  one  land  where  the  Church  achieved 
a  durable  conquest  unaided  by  the  civil  arm  and  unstained  by 
the  effusion  of  blood.   To  their  fancy  it  resembled  the  mythic 
region  of  the  Hesperides,  a  land  shrouded  in  a  halo  of  bliss- 
ful repose,  whence  the  baneful  influences  of  the  seasons  and 
all  that  could  molest  or  harm  were  repelled  by  some  guardian 
power.2     The  Irish  monks  themselves  cherished  this  concep- 
tion, and  the  rude  stanzas  chanted  by  the  monks  of  Banchor 
still  exist,  wherein  they  liken  their  monastery  to  a  ship, 
rudely  tossed  at  times  by  the  waves  without,  but  peaceful 
and  secure  within.3 

To  the  Frank  the  traditions  of  this  distant  land  could  Coium- 
appeal  for  an  impartial  audience  with  far  better  prospects  of  cQ^s^n' 
success  than  to  the  leaders  of  religious  policy  in  England,  Frankland. 
and  already  in  the  person  of  Columban  had  gained  a  brilliant 
though  evanescent  triumph.     Long  before  St.  Boniface  set 
foot  in  Thuringia,  before  even  St.  Augustine  landed  in  Kent, 
Columban  had  set  forth  from  Ulster,  to  found  on  the  frontier 
of  Austrasia,  amid  the  mountains  of  the  Vosges,  the  monas- 
tery of  Luxeuil — famous  in  the  seventh  century  for  its  learn- 
ing when  learning  in  Frankland  was  dead.     From,  thence  he 
had  issued  forth  to  rebuke  the  vices  of  the  Burgundian  court ; 
and  from  thence,  after  a  retirement  of  twelve  years,  had 

1  See  supra,  p.  41 .  2  Bede,  Eccles.  Hist,  i  i. 

3  Benchuir  bona  regula 

Recta  atque  divina  .  .  . 
Navis  nunquam  turbata, 
Qnanrvis  fluctibus  tonsa. 

Muratori  Anecd.  (quoted  by  Ozanam,  p.  101). 
i  2 


116 


CHAP. 

II. 

^     — y    . -.-* 

Contro- 
versy 
between 
the  Celtic 
and  Latin 
Churches. 
I 


The  light 
in  which 
such  con- 
troversies 
present 
themselves 
in  history. 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 

been  summoned  before  a  synod  of  Frankish  bishops  to  answer 
for  his  Celtic  heresy  with  regard  to  the  observance  of 
Easter.  In  the  isolation  of  their  island  home,  the  Irish 
theologians  still  maintained  the  more  ancient  method  of  ob- 
serving Easter,  according  to  a  cycle  of  84  years.  They  knew 
nothing,  or  professed  to  know  nothing,  of  the  cycle  of  Vic- 
torius,  published  in  the  year  457,  and  afterwards  accepted, 
through  the  labours  of  Dionysius  Exiguus,  by  almost  the 
entire  Latin  Church.  In  the  estimation  of  the  English  eccle- 
siastic the  question  had  in  no  way  declined  in  importance, 
since  the  time  when  it  formed  the  foremost  subject  of  dis- 
cussion at  Whitby.  To  Bede  it  appeared  a  cardinal  article 
of  faith — a  kind  of  thirteenth  commandment.  He  tells  us 
of  Theodoras,  that  he  '  taught  the  right  rule  of  life — and  the 
canonical  method  of  celebrating  Easter ; '  Eanfleda,  feasting 
and  keeping  Palm  Sunday,  while  Oswy  still  fasted,  seemed 
to  him  a  grievous  scandal.1  In  Alcuin's  view  the  question 
wore  an  equally  grave  aspect;  neither  the  Adoption ist 
theory  on  the  one  hand,  nor  the  question  of  Image  Worship 
on  the  other,  could  divert  his  attention  from  this  sad  heresy. 
It  presented,  in  fact,  an  insuperable  difficulty  in  every 
attempt  to  reconcile  the  Celtic  and  the  Latin  Church. 

The  ordinary  observer,  on  a  superficial  glance,  is  apt  to 
dismiss  such  controversies  with  an  expression  of  pitying  con- 
tempt. He  sees  in  them  nothing  more  than  another  proof 
of  the  puerility  of  the  mediaeval  mind  and  of  the  perverse 
tendencies  of  theological  thought.  A  wider  acquaintance 
with  history  and  a  closer  study  of  its  phenomena  can  hardly, 
however,  fail  to  modify  an  estimate  so  flattering  to  modern 
self-complacency.  Without  recalling  the  fact  that  even  in 
the  present  age,  separated  as  it  is  from  that  of  Alcuin  by  the 
experiences  and  research  of  twelve  centuries,  disputes  con- 
cerning the  lighting  of  candles  and  the  colours  of  vestments 
are  still  troubling  alike  the  statesman,  the  churchman  and 
the  theologian — we  may  observe  that  a  very  Cursory  inves- 
tigation will  suffice  to  shew  that  the  questions  that  have 
divided  Christendom  from  the  second  to  the  nineteenth  cen- 
1  Eccles.  Hist,  rv  ii ;  and  m  xxv. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY. 

tury  have  rarely  been  of  supreme  doctrinal  importance.  The 
contests  between  religious  parties  often  indeed  remind  us  of 
what  may  be  witnessed  in  military  warfare.  A  small  town, 
an  insignificant  fort,  owing  to  a  series  of  strategic  move- 
ments, suddenly  becomes  a  point  of  the  highest  value.  It 
represents  the  key  to  a  position  which  the  assailing  party  is 
bound  at  any  cost  to  carry,  the  defending  party  at  any  cost 
to  hold.  Few,  however,  are  so  ignorant  as  to  suppose  that 
either  of  the  contending  forces  would  be  ready  to  expend  so 
large  an  amount  of  blood  and  treasure,  were  the  loss  or  gain 
of  the  position  itself  the  sole  result  in  prospect.  It  is  the 
same  in  theological  controversy.  A  minor  point  of  doctrine 
has  often  been  the  ground  whereon  two  great  parties  have 
agreed  to  try  their  strength,  but  behind  a  comparatively  un- 
important tenet  we  may  generally  discern  broad  and  essen- 
tial principles  contending  for  the  mastery.  It  was  so  in 
Alcuin's  day.  The  Celtic  and  the  Latin  Church  differed  in  Other 
their  hierarchical  principles,  in  the  cast  of  their  whole  theo-  divergence 
logy,  as  well  as  concerning  the  fashion  of  the  tonsure,  the  between 
rite  of  baptism,  and  the  observance  of  Easter.  The  sub-  and  the 
mission  so  readily  yielded  by  the  king  of  the  Franks  and  the 
teachers  at  York  to  the  authority  of  Rome  was  refused  by 
the  Irish  theologian.  St,  Columbau,  when  rebuking  the  pre-  the  former 


tensions  of  Boniface  vni,  declared  that  he  and  his  country-  of  ^e  ., 

•      authority 

men  were  the  disciples  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  who  had  of  Rome. 
written  under  the  guidance  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  had  ac- 
knowledged only  that  primitive  apostolic  teaching  of  which 
Rome  from  the  earliest  times  had  been  divinely  designed  to 
be  the  conservator,1  It  is  well  known  how  the  learned 
Ussher,  under  the  combined  influence  of  political  and  theo- 
logical sympathies,  was  thus  led  to  claim  for  the  ancient 
Irish  Church  a  purely  Protestant  character  —  a  theory  main- 
tained even  by  so  recent  and  well-informed  a  writer  as 
Thierry.2 

It  was  in  keeping  with  this  repudiation  of  the  autocracy 

1  See  Coluniban's  Letter  ad  Bonifacium  Papam,  Migne,  Ixxx  274. 

2  Ussher,  De  Christianarum  Ecclesiarum  sitccessione  et  statu,  pp.  13-21  ; 
Thierry,  Hist,  de  la  Conquete  d1  Anyletcrre,  i  324. 


118  ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 

of  Rome,  that  the  theologian  of  the  Irish  monasteries  looked 
with  especial  favour  and  admiration  upon  the  writings  of  the 
Greek  Fathers.     Able  writers  on  this  period  have  discerned 
between      much  in  common  between  the  Hellenic  and  the  Celtic  minds,  — 


'  a  certain  speculative  uplooking  quality,'  l  certainly  not  very 
Eastern  apparent  in  the  writers  of  the  school  of  York.  A  further 
resemblance,  and  one  of  a  less  promising  character,  may  be 
traced  in  the  predilection  shewn  by  both  for  questions  which 
admitted  a  display  of  dialectical  subtlety.  It  was  this  feature 
which  especially  arrested  the  notice  of  Benedict  of  Aniane 
and  aroused  his  dislike  for  the  Irish  theologians.  They  were 
distinguished,  he  tells  us,  by  their  fondness  for  syllogistic 
mystification.2  They  would  often  amuse  themselves  by  in- 
terrogating some  stolid  representative  of  orthodoxy,  and 
compel  him,  as  the  logical  sequence  of  his  own  replies,  to 
admit  the  existence  of  three  Gods  or  to  disavow  his  belief  in 
the  Trinity.  The  same  tendency  led  them  to  admire  in 
Martianus  Capella  those  speculations  which  rendered  his 
volume  a  sealed  book  to  the  scholars  of  York  ;  while  in  the 
three  great  monasteries  that  marked  the  route  of  St.  Colum- 
ban's  apostolate  —  Luxeuil,  St.  Gall,  and  Bqbbio  —  numerous 
manuscripts,  in  the  elegant  Irish  character  (Scottice  scripta), 
of  Origen  and  other  Greek  fathers,  long  remained  to  attest 
the  more  enquiring  spirit  in  which  the  studies  of  their  com- 
munities were  pursued. 

Other  differences,  of  a  more  specific  character,  excited  the 
jealousy  and  distrust  of  the  Latin  clergy.  The  Irish  theolo- 
gian did  not  concur  in  their  condemnation  and  neglect  of 
classic  literature  ;  he  was  not  unfrequently  acquainted  to 
some  extent  with  Greek  ;  he  used  a  Latin  version  of  the  New 
Testament  that  was  not  the  Vulgate  and  which  claimed  to 
be  anterior  to  Jerome  ;  his  text-book  of  elementary  instruc- 

1  Maurice,  Mediaeval  Philosophy,  p.  32.  '  Le  ge"nie  celtique,  qui  est  celui 
de  I'lndividualite",  sympathise  profonde'ment  avec  le  ge"uie  grec.'  Michelet, 
Hist,  de  France,  i  121.  Compare  Alcuin's  observation  on  the  Irish  scholars 
of  his  day:  'minus  illis  videtur,  auctoritate  et  consuetudine  sola  ease 
respousum,  nisi  et  aliqua  ratio  addatur  auctoritate.'  Migne,  c  260. 

3  '  Apud  modernoa  scholasticos  maxirae  apud  Scotoe  iste  syllogisrnus 
delusionis.'  BaJuze,  Miscellanea,  v  64. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY.  H9 

tion  was  more  often  than  not  the  dangerously  speculative 
treatise  of  Martianus  Capella. 

It  was  from  the  pages  of  this  writer  that  Virgilius,  the 
Irish  bishop  of  Salzburg,  drew  his  theory  of  the  existence  of 
an  Antipodes,  —  a  doctrine  which  seems  to  have  especially 
alarmed  the  earnest  but  intolerant  Boniface  and  evoked  the  Boniface 
anathema  of  pope  Zacharias.1     The  eminent  reformer,  while 


he  saw  still  stretching  before  him  almost  limitless  tracts 
abandoned  to  pagan  belief  and  superstition  and  appealing  to 
Christian  philanthropy,  had  small  patience  for  vague  and 
unsettling  speculation.  When  one  of  the  Irish  clergy,  named 
Clement,  ventured  to  broach  certain  strange  notions  concern- 
ing predestination,  Carloman,  the  brother  of  Pepin  le  Bref, 
at  Boniface's  advice,  sent  the  heretic  to  prison;2  and  the 
injunction  which  the  reformer  obtained  from  Gregory  in 
against  not  only  gentilitatis  riium  et  docirinam,  but  also  those 
v&ni&tdium  Britonum?  is  additional  evidence  of  his  unmistake- 
able  hostility  to  the  teaching  of  this  school.  That  hostility, 
it  need  scarcely  be  added,  became  a  tradition  from  Boniface's 
time  with  Alcuin  and  nearly  all  the  Latin  clergy.  One 
alone,  perhaps,  in  the  whole  Frankish  court,  could  survey 
these  differences  with  impartiality,  and  that  one  was  the 
monarch  himself.  There  is  good  reason  indeed  for  inferring 
that  he  entertained  a  genuine  and  lively  curiosity  respecting 
the  Irish  clergy.  The  necessity  of  defending  their  mode  of 
observing  Easter  from  the  objections  of  their  antagonists, 
had  led  them  to  devote  particular  attention  to  the  subject  of  Astronom- 
astronomy,  and  the  Irish  theologian  thus  became  the  better  j^lg1^" 
astronomer  as  well  as  the  better  dialectician.  It  was  Charles'  sessed  by 

the  latter. 

1  '  De  perversa  autem  et  iniqua  doctrina,  quse  contra  Deum  et  animam 
suam   locutus  est  —  si  clarification  fuerit,  ita  eum  confiteri  ;  quod  alias 
mundus  et  alii  homines  sub  terra  sint  seu  sol  et  luna  —  hunc,  habito  concilio, 
ab  ecclesia  pelle,  sacerdotii  honore  privatum.'    Jafte*,  Mon.  Moyunt.,  p.  191. 
Zach.  to  Boniface. 

2  Milmau,  ii  302  ;  Clement  and  another  heretic  are  here  styled  '  duos 
haereticos  publicos  et  pessimos  et  blasphemes  contra  Deum  et  contra 
catholicara  fidem.'    The  heresies  of  Clement  appear  to  have  included  the 
rejection  of  the  authority  of  Jerome,  Augustine,  and  Gregory.    See  Jaffe, 
Mon.  Mogunt.j  p.  140. 

3  Episi.  4  ;  Migne,  xxxix  580. 


120 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 


CHAP. 
II. 


Charles' 
interest 
in  astro- 
nomical 
questions. 


His  rela- 
tions with 
Ireland. 


special  delight  to  study  the  movements  of  the  heavenly  bodies ; 
and  we  learn  from  Einhard  that  he  expended  no  small  time 
and  labour  in  extracting  from  Alcuin  all  that  the  latter  could 
communicate.1  This,  as  we  have  already  seen,  could  have 
been  but  Kttle,  and  Charles'  sagacity  could  scarcely  have 
failed  to  suggest  that  it  was  but  a  mockery  of  science  when 
he  was  told,  by  way  of  explanation  of  the  prolonged  disap- 
pearance of  Mars  from  the  heavens,  that  the  planet  had  been 
detained  by  the  sun,  which  had  again  at  last  let  it  go  through 
fear  of  the  Nemean  lion ;  or  when  he  was  assured  that  a 
comet  of  singular  brightness  was  probably  the  soul  of  Liudger, 
just  then  recently  deceased ! 

That  the  scholars  of  Ireland  were  well  known  to  Charles 
by  report  admits  of  little  doubt.  His  relations  with  their 
native  country  were  eminently  friendly,  the  Irish  kings,  ac- 
cording to  Einhard,  styling  themselves  *  his  subjects  and 
slaves ; n  while  young  Egbert,  who  was  at  this  time  his  guest, 
and  the  boundaries  of  whose  hereditary  kingdom  extended 
to  that  part  of»  Cornwall  known  as  West  Wales,  where  a 
Celtic  population  maintained  its  ground  and  preserved  fre- 
quent intercourse  with  the  Holy  Island,3  would  hardly  fail 
to  toll  his  royal  host  something  concerning  the  famous  Irish 
monasteries.4 

We  can  thus  readily  understand  how  it  was  that  when 

1  '  Apud  quern .  . .  praecipue  astronomiae  ediscendae  pluriiuum  ettemporis 
et  laboris  impertivit.'     Caroli  Vita,  c.  26.    Echoed  by  the  poet  Saxo 

'  A  quo  precipue  studuit  totam  rationem 

Et  legem  curaus  noscere  siderei.' — Pertz,  i  271. 

2  '  Scotorum  quoque  reges  sic  habuit  ad  suain  voluntatein  per  niunifi- 
centiam  inclinatos,  ut  eiun  nunquam  aliter  nisi  dominum,  seque  subditos  et 
servos  ejus  pronuntiarent.1     Caroli  Vita,  c.  16 ;  Carolina.  523. 

*  The  close  similarity  of  the  stone  crosses  of  Ireland  to  those  of 
Cornwall  is  an  interesting  illustration  of  this  intercourse.  See  Riiumer's 
Ancient  Stone  Crostes  of  England,  pp.  10, 11. 

4  Considerations  like  these  seem  to  justify  our  rejection  of  a  theory  of 
Clement  and  his  followers  (  dropping  as  it  were  from  the  clouds  upon  the 
benighted  Continent '  (Haddan,  Remains,  p.  281),  as  derived  from  the  im- 
probable story  of  the  Monachus  Sangallemis  (Pertz,  ii  871),  though  tha 
story  has  been  accepted  by  such  able  enquirers  as  Mr.  Haddan,  M.  Ozanam, 
and  I)r.  Lanigan.  Chateaubriand  long  ago  justly  observed  that  the  Monk 
of  St.  Gall  is  the  father  of  the  fabulous  element  relating  to  Charles. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY.  121 

another  Clement,  known  as  Clement  of  Ireland,  accompanied     CHAP. 
by  one  or  two  companions,  presented  himself  at  the  hospita-   ^_  *'  _^ 
ble  court,  he  was  cordially  welcomed  ;  that  the  monarch  was  He  -wel- 
delighted  with  the  readiness  and  clearness  with  which  the  element  of 
new-comers  responded  to  his  questions;  and  that,  as  the  Ireland  at 
final  result,  the  heterodox  Clement  was  installed  in  the  chair  ana 


once  filled  by  Alcuin.  This  important  change  appears  to 
have  taken  place  within  two  years  after  Alcuin's  retirement  of  the 
to  Tours.  The  discipline  of  the  monastery  was  already  be- 
ginning  to  assume  a  character  more  consonant  with  his  views> 
and  the  4  Turonese  rusticity  '  to  disappear  before  his  con- 
tinuous efforts.  We  gather  something  of  a  feeling  of  chagrin 
at  the  forgetfulness  shewn  by  his  court  friends,  but  he  consoled 
himself  with  the  thought  that  in  the  Palace  School  his  teach- 
ing was  sustained  by  Witzo  and  Fredegis,  and  was  thankful 
to  have  gained  the  repose  he  sought.  We  can  hardly  be 
surprised  that  the  news  of  the  installation  of  Clement  proved 
a  severe  shock  to  his  mental  tranquillity. 

He  appears  first  to  have  become  apprised  of  the  change 
through  a  correspondence  with  Charles  himself.  The  latter  Alcuin's 
had  recently  been  writing  to  Alcuin  for  explanations  respect- 
ing  certain  celestial  phenomena  by  which  he  was  somewhat 
perplexed,  and  had  submitted  the  replies  he  had  received  to 
the  Irish  scholars  just  recently  arrived  at  Aachen.  Their 
criticisms  only  added  still  further  to  his  perplexity,  and  in 
the  sequel,  after  a  long  silence,  he  wrote  again  to  Alcuin, 
restating  his  difficulties  and  soliciting  further  explanations. 
So  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  facts,  it  seems  unquestionable 
that  Clement  and  his  colleagues  shewed  a  decided  superiority 
in  scientific  knowledge';  and  Charles'  letters,  which  unfor- 
tunately have  not  come  down  to  us,  seem  to  have  wounded 
Alcuin's  self-esteem  very  nearly.  In  a  notable  reply,  more 
pathetic  than  dignified,  he  betrays  his  sense  of  injured  merit 
and  recalls  his  past  services.  He  is  like  Entellus  (the  poor 
old  man  could  not  forget  his  Vergil)  summoned  again  to  put 
on  the  caestus  with  a  young  and  vigorous  Dares.  '  Simpleton 
that  I  was  and  ignorant,5  he  goes  on  to  say,  '  little  dreaming 


122 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS, 


CHAP, 


Alarm  of 
dox  party. 


that  the  school  of  the  Egyptians1  had  gained  an  entrance  into 
David's  glorious  palace.  When  I  went  away,  I  left  the  Latins 
there  ;  I  know  not  who  introduced  the  Egyptians.  It  is  not 
so  much  that  I  have  been  ignorant  of  the  Memphian  method 
of  calculation,  as  attached  to  the  Roman  custom  ;  for  I  long 
ago  entered  the  land  of  promise  and  left  the  Egyptian  dark- 
ness behind.'2  Charles,  it  would  seem,  was  desirous  of 
seeing  his  former  instructor  confronted  with  his  critics,  and 
perhaps  promised  himself  no  little  entertainment  from  the 
encounter.  Though  far  away,  engaged  in  punishing  the 
Saxons  on  the  other  side  of  the  Elbe  for  the  murder  of  some 
of  his  ambassadors,  he  wanted  Alcuinto  come  to  him.  Alcuin 
is  alarmed  at  the  very  notion.  Quid  valet  infirmitas  Flacci 
inter  arma  ?  quid  inter  apros  lepusculus  ?  At  the  close  of  his 
letter  Charles  had  suggested,  that  should  Alcuin  discover 
anything  erroneous  in  his  former  expositions,  he  hoped  he 
would  condescend  to  correct  it.  Alcuin  discerns  in  this  sug- 
gestion an  implied  censure,  and  hastens  to  vindicate  himself. 
Never,  he  warmly  asserts,  has  he  been  so  tenacious  of  his 
errors  or  confident  of  his  powers,  as  to  be  unwilling  to  re- 
tract his  first  opinion  when  better  advised. 

It  is  evident  indeed  that  he  was  deeply  pained,  and,  in  fact, 
the  intelligence  must  have  been  heard  with  something  like 
consternation  by  every  supporter  of  orthodoxy  in  Gaul.  It 
sent  a  shudder  though  Benedict  in  his  cell  on  the  distant 
Aniane  ;  it  startled  even  the  astute  Theodulfus  in  his  epis- 
copal palace  at  Orleans.  The  latter  had  long  been  dis- 
tinguished as  a  strenuous  opponent  of  the  Irish  school  of 
theology.  There  are  still  extant  some  verses  addressed  by 

1  In  allusion  to  a  difference  in  the  method  of  the  Alexandrian  astro- 
nomers.    So  in  Belle  (in  xxv)  Anatolius  is  said  by  Wilfrid  to  have  com- 
puted '  according  to  the  custom  of  the  Egyptians.'  '  Annum  autem  civilem 
id  eat  solarem  .  .  .  Aegyptii  ab  autumno,  a  brunii  incipiunt  Rouaani.' 
Bede,  De  teniporum  ratione  (quoted  by  Diimmler,  Alcuiniana,  p.  408). 

2  '  Et  ut  ad  rem  veniam,  ac  ignorantiae  fomentis  caput  percussi  medicari 
incipiam:    ego  imperitus,  ego  ignarus,  r.esciens  Aegyptiacarn  scholam  in 
palatio  Davidicae  versari  gloriae  :  ego  abiens  Latinos  ibi  dimisi.     Nescio 
quis  introduxit  Aegyptios.  Nee  tarn  iudoctus  fui  Memphiticae  supputationis 
quam  benevolus  Romanae  consuetudinis.'    Migne,  c  26C.     The  passage  has 
been  ludicrously  misunderstood  by  Ampere,  iii  27. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY.  123 

him  to  Charles  in  the  year  in  which  Alcuin  retired  to  Tours, 
and  written  not  improbably  with  the  design  of  averting  the 
very  event  above  recorded.  In  these  he  inveighs  with  peculiar 
bitterness  against  the  Scottellus.  The  Irish  theologian  is 
stigmatised  as  *  a  lawless  thing,'  '  a  deadly  foe,'  *  a  dull 
horror/  '  a  malignant  pest,'  '  one  who,  though  versed  in  many 
subjects,  knows  nothing  for  certain  or  true,  and  even  in  subjects 
of  which  he  is  ignorant  fancies  himself  omniscient.'  l  *" 

Charles,  however,  was  not  one  to  be  diverted  from  his 
designs  by  a  mere  outbreak  of  theological  jealousy,  and  the 
Irish  school  would  appear  to  have  made  good  their  footing  in 
the  palace  for  the  greater  part  of  the  ninth  century.     The  Alcuin's 
more  immediate  result  was,  that  Alcuin  found  himself  in-  corre- 


volved  in  a  heavy  astronomical  correspondence,  in  which  he 
labours  painfully  to  explain  more  to  the  satisfaction  of  his  Charles. 
royal  patron  the  various  celestial  phenomena,  and  especially 
the  changes  of  the  moon.8  Charles,  in  return,  shewed  him- 
self not  indifferent  to  bis  old  instructor's  feelings,  and,  a  few 
months  later,  we  find  him  sending  Fredegis  to  Tours  with 
presents,  which  Alcuin  gratefully  acknowledged.  Perhaps 
he  began  to  think  that  it  would  not  be  a  matter  of  regret  if 
Charles'  thoughts  could  be  diverted  into  another  channel, 
for  in  the  same  letter  he  takes  occasion  to  urge  the  necessity 
for  the  speedy  suppression  of  the  Adoptionists.3 

The  refutation  of  Felix,  bishop  of  Urgel,  the  leading  re-  His 
presentative   of  this  sect,   was  the  concluding  triumph  in  0"eriL 
Alcuin's    career.      In  the   year   800,   Charles    visited    St.  4do.P" 

tioiusts. 

Martin's  shrine  at  Tours,  and  on  his  departure  was  accom- 
panied by  Alcuin.4  They  proceeded  by  Orleans  and  Paris  to 
Aachen,  where,  in  the  king's  presence,  together  with  that  of 
numerous  dignitaries  of  the  Church,  Alcuin  held  what  he 

1  Migne,  cv  322. 

3  See  Epist.  98  to  112  in  Alcuiniana;  Diimmler's  arrangement  of  this 
portion  of  Alcuin's  correspondence  is  a  valuable  correction  of  the  confusion 
introduced  by  the  old  arrangement  of  Frobenius,  and  I  have  accordingly 
here  given  the  references  to  his  volume. 

3  Alcuiniana,  p.  420. 

4  Pertz,  i  117  5  see   also  Diimmler's  notes  in  Alcuiniana  to  Epist.  132, 
133.  147. 


124  ALOUIN  AT  TOURS. 

CHAP,     himself  styles  '  a  great  dispute  '  (magnam  contentiohem)  with. 

v. *' ,  Felix.1     Here  he  was  far  more  in  his  element  than  he  would 

have  been  when  arguing  points  of  astronomical  science  with 
Clement  of  Ireland,  arid  Felix  eventually  confessed  himself 
completely  vanquished.  From  this  time  we  may  date  the 
gradual  disappearance  of  the  Adoptionist  party,  at  least  so 
far  as  known  under  their  distinctive  appellation. 

Somewhat  earlier  in  the  same  year,  Liutgarda,  Charles' 
best-loved  wife,  in  whose  esteem  Alcuin  had  always  held  a 
foremost  place,  died  while  on  a  visit  to  Tours,  and  was  in- 
terred in  the  splendid  cathedral.     The  letter  which  Alcuin 
addressed  to   the  royal   widower  on   the   occasion   is   still 
He  de-        extant.2     Liutgarda's  death  in  no  way  diminished  Charles' 
dines  to      regard  for  one  whom  she  had  so  highly  honoured,  and  when, 

accompany 

Charles  to  towards  the  close  of  the  year,  he  was  preparing  for  his  last 
visit  to  Rome,  he  strongly  urged  that  Alcuin  should  accom- 
pany him.  The  latter,  however,  who  had  recently  been, 
attacked  by  fever,  shrank  from  the  risks  and  toils  of  such  a 
journey ;  he  preferred,  he  said,  the  smoky  roofs  of  Tours  to 
the  gilded  splendour  of  Rome,  involved  as  the  great  city  then 
was  in  domestic  discord.3  Alcuin  accordingly  was  not  a 
spectator  of  the  famous  event,  when  the  imperial  crown  was 
placed  on  the  head  of  Charles,  and  the  monarch  rose  up,  no 
He  con-  longer  Patricius,  but  Imperator  et  Augustus.4  On  Charles' 
gntulntes  return  to  Frankland,  the  abbat  of  Tours  sent  Candidus  to 

him  on  his 

accession     meet  him,  and  penned  a  letter  of  congratulation ; 5  but  there 
imperial      *s  no  evidence  that  he  at  all  adequately  grasped  the  signi- 
dignity.      ficance  of  an  event  fraught  with  momentous  consequences  in 
relation  to  European  history. 

In  the  following  year  we  find  him  dedicating  his  Com- 
mentary on  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  to  Gisla  and  Rotruda, 
Charles'  sister  and  daughter.6  In  the  year  ensuing,  the 

1  '  Cum  Felice  heretico  magnam  coutentionem  in  praesentia  domni  regis 
et  sanctorum  patrum  habuiinus.'  Pert/,  i  187  ;  see  also  Diimiuler's  notes  in 
Akuiniana  to  Epist.  132,  133, 147. 

3  Epist.  138  (ed.  Diimmler). 
s  Epist.  119:  ibid.  p.  487. 

4  Pertz,  i  169. 

5  Alcuiniana,  Epist.  159  and  170.  6  Ibid.  Epist.  158. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY.  125 

letters  given  by  the  emperor  to  his  missi  dominici  shew  that  CHAP. 

his  efforts   for  the   improvement  of  the  people   were   not  s  _  ^  _  , 
diminished,1   though    Alcuiii   was   no    longer   at  his   side. 

Among  the  newly   created   missi  was  Theodulfus,  hitherto  Hisdis- 
Alcuin's  cordial  friend,  but  whom  an  unfortunate  event  soon 


aiter  alienated,  while  in  Lorenz's  opinion  it  hastened  Alcuin's  dulius- 
end.  A  monk,  already  condemned  by  justice,  had  escaped 
from  prison  and  taken  refuge  in  the  sanctuary  of  St.  Martin 
of  Tours.  Over  this,  as  the  church  of  the  monastery,  Alcuin 
held  jurisdiction.  The  monk  was  pursued  by  the  soldiery  of 
Theodulfus,  from  whose  custody  he  had  effected  his  escape. 
Their  unceremonious  entrance  into  the  venerated  edifice 
aroused  the  susceptibilities  of  the  citizens  of  Tours,  and  an 
alarming  collision  ensued,  which  was  only  terminated  by  the 
intervention  of  Alcuin.  In  some  manner,  which  is  not  alto- 
gether clear,  the  exercise  of  his  authority  excited  not  only 
the  anger  of  Theodulfus,  but  the  displeasure  of  Charles  him- 
self. It  was  probably  the  old  question  between  monastic 
immunities  and  episcopal  and  civil  rights.  The  letter 
addressed  by  Charles  to  Alcuin,  and  the  severity  with  which 
those  of  the  monks  of  St.  Martin  who  had  taken  part  in  the 
broil  were  treated,  proved  a  cruel  blow  to  the  abbat's  feelings.2 

From  this  time  his  health  rapidly  declined,  and  repeated  His  last 
attacks  of  fever  warned  him  of  his  approaching  end.  His  death. 
last  acts  were  marked  by  the  same  dignified  sense  of  re- 
sponsibility and  duty  that  characterised  his  whole  career. 
The  vast  revenues  of  the  monastery  were  accurately  ascer- 
tained and  recorded  in  a  formal  register.  Fredegis  was 
appointed  his  successor  at  Tours;  Sigulfus,  at  Ferrieres. 
Then  he  wrote  his  farewell  letters  —  to  Charles,  soliciting  the 
imperial  sanction  of  his  plans  relating  to  the  monastic  ap- 
pointments and  revenues,  thanking  him  for  all  the  favours 
that  '  had  cheered  his  earthly  pilgrimage,'  and  bidding  him 
a  final  adieu  3  —  to  Leo  in,  beseeching  plenary  absolution  — 
and  to  Arno.  He  would  fain  have  seen  his  best-loved  friend 

1  See  Capit-uln  data  missis  dominie-is,  Baluze,  i  360. 

2  The  story  is  told  at  length  in  Monnier,  pp.  343-351, 

3  Alcuiniana,  pp.  676-7. 


126 


ALCUIN  AT  TOURS. 


once  more,  in  order  to  consult  him  concerning  his  regulations 
for  the  monasteries  and  to  take  a  solemn  parting.1  But  this 
was  not  to  be  ;  and,  conscious  that  his  work  on  earth  was 
o'er,  Alcuin  now  sought  to  concentrate  his  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings on  the  contemplation  of  death.  Something  of  the  vague 
trouble  and  dread  too  often  discernible  in  the  last  hours  of 
the  best  men  of  mediaeval  times  disturbed  his  feverish  close.2 
He  was  seized  by  a  passionate  longing  to  be  conveyed  to 
Fulda,  and  to  die  and  be  laid  by  the  tomb  of  that  great 
martyr  whose  memory  he  so  deeply  venerated;  but  it  was 
evident  that  he  would  not  survive  the  fatigues  of  such  a 
journey.  In  another  respect,  however,  his  wishes  were  sin- 
gularly fulfilled.  He  hoped,  he  said,  that  he  should  live 
to  die  on  the  day  of  Pentecost  ;  and  on  that  day  he  died, 
just  as  the  morning  broke  and  the  chant  had  begun  in  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Martin.3 

His  cha-  A  sense  of  the  signal  service  rendered  by  Alcuin  to  his  age, 

racter  and    ^n  ^ayS  when  learning  strove  but  feebly  and  ineffectually  amid 

services 

estimated,  the  clang  of  arms  and  the  rude  instincts  of  a  semi-barbarous 
race,  must  not  lead  us  to  exaggerate  his  merits  or  his  powers. 
On  a  dispassionate  and  candid  scrutiny,  his  views  and  aims 
will  scarcely  appear  loftier  than  his  time.  By  the  side  of 
the  imperial  conceptions  —  so  boldj  so  original,  so  comprehen- 
sive —  his  tame  adherence  to  tradition,  his  timid  mistrust  of 
pagan  learning,  dwarf  him  almost  to  littleness.  No  noble 
superiority  to  the  superstition  of  his  age  stamps  him,  like 
Agobard,  a  master  spirit.  No  heroism  of  self-devotion,  like 
that  of  a  Columban  or  a  Boniface,  bears  aloft  his  memory  to 
a  region  which  detraction  cannot  reach.  He  reared  no 
classic  monument  of  historic  genius  like  that  of  Einhard's.4 


1  Akuiniana,  pp.  678-9. 

9  '  Hujus  vero  judicii  terrore  totus  contremesco.'  Letter  to  Arno,  Ibid. 
p.  679.  '  O  quam  timendus  est  omiii  homini  dies  ilia.'  Letter  to  Charles, 
Ibid.  p.  677. 

3  '  Pentecostes  inlucescente  die.'    Annalcs  Petav. ;  Pertz,  i  18.    '  Eadern 
hora  qua  ingredi  consueverat  ad  inissas,  aurora  patente.'     Migne,  c  105. 

4  Compare  his  very  indifferent  life  of  St.  Willibrod  (on  which  see  a 
severe  criticism  by  Diimmler  in  Alcwniana,  p.  36)  with  Einhard's  admir- 
able imitation  of  Suetonius. 


THE  SCHOOL  OF  THE  MONASTERY.  127 

He  penned  no  stanzas,  like  those  by  Theodulfus,  to  waft 
from  century  to  century  the  burden  of  the  Christian  hope 
until  lost  in  the  clamour  of  the  Marseillaise.*  Yet  let  us  not 
withhold  the  tribute  that  is  his  due.  He  loved  the  temple  of 
the  Muses,  and  was  at  once  their  high  priest  and  their 
apostle  in  days  when  the  worshippers  at  their  shrine  were  few. 
He  upheld  the  faith  with  vigour  and  ability  against  its  foes  ; 
and  amid  the  temptations  of  a  licentious  court  bore  witness 
to  its  elevating  power,  with  the  eloquent  though  un  uttered 
testimony  of  an  upright  and  blameless  life.  He  mediated 
between  the  two  greatest  princes  of  the  West,  and  the 
blessing  promised  to  the  peacemakers  was  his.  He  watched 
with  a  father's  care  over  a  band  of  illustrious  disciples,  who 
repaid  him  by  a  loving  obedience  while  he  lived,  and  by  a 
faithful  adherence  to  his  teaching  when  he  was  gone.  And 
when  on  this  same  morning  of  Pentecost  his  spirit  passed 
away,  as  the  monks  stood  watching  round  his  couch  and  the 
voice  of  the  chorister  was  hushed  in  weeping,  great  sorrow 
fell  upon  Tours.  And  wherever  throughout  Christendom 
the  tidings  of  the  event  was  told — whether  at  York,  at 
Aachen,  or  at  Eome — it  was  felt  that  a  light  had  been  with- 
drawn from  the  Church  and  that  a  wise  teacher  of  Israel  was 
dead. 

1  The  hymn  '  Gloria,  laus,  et  honor  tibi,'  composed  by  Theodulfus,  was 
sung  in  France,  during  the  procession  on  Palm  Sunday,  until  the  outbreak 
of  the  Revolution. 


128 


RABANUS  MAUKUS, 


CHAP. 
III. 


Charles' 
final  la- 
bours. 


CHAPTER  III. 

RABANUS  MAURUS:   OE,   THE   SCHOOL  AT  FULDA. 


"EUROPE'S  lofty  beacon'  (Europae  celsa  pliaros},  as  Alcuin, 
on  one  occasion,  styles  Charles,  continued  to  shine  over 
Frankland  for  ten  years  after  Alcuin  himself  was  no  more. 
Neither  family  bereavement  nor  the  declining  fortunes  of  the 
empire  appear  to  have  diminished  the  ardour  with  which 
the  aged  emperor  still  pressed  on  internal  reform,  discussed 
knotty  questions  in  theology,  or  pursued  his  literary  re- 
searches. He  gave  to  the  Western  Church  the  grand 
strains  of  the  Veni  Creator ;  his  autocratic  decision  (a  trait 
that  reminds  us  somewhat  uncomfortably  of  the  Merovingian. 
Chilperic  i)  inserted  in  her  Symbolum,  in  defiance  of  Leo  in, 
the  fatal  Filioque  ;  while,  if  we  may  credit  Theganus,  the  last 
days  of  his  life  found  him  correcting  (probably  by  the  aid 
of  Clement  of  Ireland's  superior  Greek  scholarship)  the 
Vulgate  translation  of  the  Gospels.1 

The  father's  love  for  learning  reappeared  with  un- 
diminished  force  in  his  surviving  son — the  son  whom  Alcuin, 
won,  as  we  can  well  understand,  by  the  young  prince's 
docility  and  moral  virtues,  is  said  to  have  pronounced  the 
most  worthy  to  wear  the  imperial  crown.  The  impress  of 
Lewis  the  his  teaching  on  Lewis'  character  is  indeed  distinctly  to  be 
discerned.  Lewis  was  not  only  an  excellent  Latin  scholar, 
with  some  knowledge  of  Greek ;  he  was  also  well  versed  in 
theology,  capable  too  of  discerning  not  merely  the  moral 
and  spiritual  sense  of  Scripture,  but  the  auagogical  as  well. 
On  the  lighter  literature  of  paganism,  especialty  its  poetry, 

1  '  Et  quattuor  evaugelia  Christ!  ...  in  ultimo  ante  obitus  sui  diem 
cum  Graecis  et  Syris  optirne  correxerat.'  Vita  Hlud-moici,  c.  7 ;  1'ertz,  ii 
692. 


Pious. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  129 

he  looked  with,  an  aversion  which  we  can  have  no  difficulty     CHAP, 
in  referring  to  its  true  origin.1     But  his  chief  superiority  to  ^    ^   ^ 
his  father  was  in  his  blameless  life.     Free  from  reproach 
like  that  which  detracted  so  largely  from  Charles'  moral  Hismea- 
influence,  he  could  demand,  with  all  the  authority  derived  ^form^ 
from  a  high  personal  example,  that  neither  in  cloister  nor 
canonry  should  solemn  vows  and  grave  responsibilities  be 
permitted  to  remain  a  dead  letter.    He  had  no  sooner  as- 
cended the  throne  than  he  began  to  give  unmistakeable 
proof  of  his  determination  to  enforce  and  render  more  strin- 
gent both  the  monastic  and  the   Church   discipline.    The  Benedict  of 
austere  Benedict  of  Aniane,  summoned  from  his  distant  cell  Aniane- 
to  take  up  his  abode  near  Aachen,  was  appointed  chief  of 
the  abbats  of  the  empire,2  and  in  the  capitulary  De  vita 
et  conversations  monachorum,  drawn  up  in  the  same  year  at 
the  Council  of  Aachen,  his  influence  is  distinctly  to  be  dis- 
cerned. 

It  is  not  without  reason  that  the  acts  of  this  memorable  The 
council  have  been  characterised  as  '  among  the  boldest  and  Aachen  ° 
most  comprehensive   ever  submitted  to   a  great  national  A.D.  817. 
assembly.' 3    The  rule  of  the  canonical  life,  so  far  back  as 
the  time  when  Alcuin  first  visited   Frankland,  had  been 
rendered  far  more  stringent  than  that  in  England  by  the 
reforms  introduced,  in  the  time  of  Pepin-te-Bref,  by  Chrode- 
gang,  bishop  of  Metz.     This  rule,  to  quote  a  high  authority, 
'  differed  but  little  from  the  rule  of  St.  Benedict,  except  The  Bene- 
in  the  article  of  poverty.' 4     In  the  monasteries,  again,  the  generally  ° 
Benedictine  rule  had  totally  displaced  that  of  Columbanj  enforced. 
so  that  towards  the  close  of  the  eighth  century  we  find  Charles 
instituting  enquiry  to  ascertain  whether  any  monks,  other 
than  Benedictines,  still  existed  in  his  realm.5    At  the  Coun- 
cil of  Aachen,  in  817,  the  rule  of  Chrodegang  was  made  the 
rule  of  the  entire  Church;   while  in  the  capitulary  above 

1  '  Poetica  carmina  gentilia  quae  in  juventute  didicerat,  respuit,  nee  legere 
nee  audire  nee  docere  voluit.'     Vita  Hludotcici,  c.  7  ;  Pertz,  ii  964. 

*  '  Propter  famam  vitae  ejus  et  sanctitatem.'   Chron.  Moiss.  Pertz,  i  311, 
Ckron,  Farf.  p.  671. 

3  Milman,  iii  116. 

*  Stubbs,  Pref.  to  De  Inventione,  p.  xi.  5  Guizot,  U  82, 

K 


130  RABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP,     referred  to,  as  reflecting  Benedict's  influence,  the  whole 

v__r___^  discipline  of  the  monastic  life  was  defined  with  increased 

stringency.     For  our  special  purpose,  however,  it  is  most 

important  to  note  the  tendency  exhibited  to  draw  a  more 

definite  line  between  the  monastic  and  the  lay  communities. 

The  progress  of  the  national  dialects  of  Neustria  and  Aus- 

trasia  towards  distinct  languages  not  improbably  furnished 

an  additional  incentive  to  this  policy.     The  discernment  of 

Lewis  the  Pious,  in  prescribing  the  translation  of  the  Scrip- 

Scholars      tures  into  the  Lingua  Teudisca,1  had  recognised  an  imperative 

signed  for    wan^  —  the  vulgar  and  the  learned  speech  could  no  longer  be 

the  reli-      assumed  to  be  the  same.     With  a  somewhat  similar  scope, 

to  be  sepa-  Benedict's  Capitulary  of  Aachen  required  that  the   school 


eacn  monastery  should  include  only  those  who  had 
in  the  actually  taken  the  monastic  vows  ;  2  he  even  went  so  far  as 
schools10  *°  Pr°hibit  the  introduction  of  the  laity  into  the  refectory. 

Prom  this  time,  we  are  accordingly  able  to  distinguish, 
with  somewhat  more  precision,  the  different  training  of  the 
monastic  and  the  episcopal  schools.  Of  the  latter,  indeed, 
throughout  the  ninth  century,  it  is  impossible  to  give  much 
more  than  a  conjectural  account,  as  there  existed  no  syste- 
matic organisation.  Leon  Maitre,  in  his  endeavour  to  supply 
the  want,  presents  us  with  a  series  of  confused  gleanings,  the 
greater  part  of  which  apply  evidently  to  the  schools  of  the 
The  monasteries.  Close  to  the  cathedral  precincts,  and  under 

schools.  *ne  immediate  supervision  of  the  bishop,  a  school  for  boys, 
all  destined  to  become  priests,  was  confided  to  the  care  of 
one  of  the  canons,  known  from  his  office  as  the  scholasticvs.3 
The  institution  represented  a  kind  of  monopoly  of  the  eccle- 

1  Dom  Bouquet,  vi  256. 

3  '  lit  schola  in  monasterio  non  habeatur  nisi  eorum  qui  oblati  sunt.' 
Pertz,  Legy.  i  202.  Before  this  time  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  seems  to 
have  possessed  the  power  of  sending  the  sons  of  the  clergy  to  be  educated  in 
the  monastic  schools.  See  the  Capitulary  of  Theodulfus  of  797,  '  si  quis  ex 
preebyteris  voluerit  nepotem  suum  aut  aliquem  consanguineuni  ad  scholam 
mittere  in  eccl.  sauctae  Orucis  aut  in  raonasterio  S.  Aniani,  aut  S.  Benedicti, 
aut  S.  Lifardi,  aut  in  caeteris  de  his  coenobiis  q-uae  nobis  ad  regcndum 
concesaa  sunt,  ei  liceutiam  id  faciendi  concedimus.'  Cossart,  xiii  998. 

3  He  appears  to  have  been  known  in  the  southern  provinces  under  the 
name  of  the  capiscolw.  See  L<5on  Maitre,  pp.  184-5. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA. 

siastical,  as  opposed  to  the  *  religious,'  education  of  the  time,     CHAP, 
for  the  chancellor  of  the  cathedral  had  jurisdiction  over  the   .    IIL   ^ 
schools  for  the  clergy  throughout  the  diocese.     At  a  later 
period  we  find  this  latter  functionary  asserting  claims  over 
abbey  lauds,  claims  not  unchallenged  by  the  abbat,  and  en- 
deavouring to  levy  a  tax  on  all  who  assumed  the  office  of 
teacher — but  these  encroachments  belong  to  the  tenth  and 
eleventh  centuries. 

The  education  provided  in  these  schools  may  be  described  Character 
as  a  kind  of  minor  to  the  Benedictine  major.  In  the  range  education 
of  subjects  it  probably  went  little  beyond  the  teaching  of  the  thero 
schools  of  Cassian,  but  its  method  was  more  careful  and 
efficient.  We  may  picture  to  ourselves  a  group  of  lads 
seated  on  the  floor,  which  was  strewn  with  clean  straw,  their 
waxen  tablets  in  their  hands,  and  busily  engaged  in  noting 
down  the  words  read  by  the  scholasticus  from  his  manuscript 
volume.  So  rarely  did  the  pupil,  in  those  days,  gain  access 
to  a  book,  that  to  read  (legere)  became  synonymous  with  to 
teach.  The  scholars  traced  the  words  on  their  tablets,  and 
afterwards,  when  their  notes  had  been  corrected  bj-  the 
master,  transferred  them  to  a  little  parchment  volume,  the 
treasured  depository,  with  many,  of  nearly  all  the  learning 
they  managed  to  acquire  in  life.1  We  have  already  investi- 
gated the  probable  extent  and  character  of  that  learning, 
and  it  may  safely  be  assumed  that  in  the  cathedral  school 
the  customary  limits  were  seldom  passed.  In  the  ninth 
century,  at  least,  only  two  centres  of  Church  education  in 
Frankland  stand  forth  as  examples  of  a  higher  culture — the 
one,  that  at  Orleans,  under  Theodulf  us ;  the  other,  that  at 
Kheims. 

The  lively  interest  taken  by  Theodulfus  in  everything  The 
that  related  to  the  education  of  his  day  is  attested  by 
numerous  facts,  though  in  his  leaning  to  a  policy  of  conser-  and 
vatism  he  strongly  resembled  Alcuin.    He  mistrusted  the  Rheim8' 

1  So  Rabanus  Maurus,  when  petitioning  the  abbat  of  Fulda  for  the 
return  of  his  books,  says, — 

*  Me  quia  quaecumque  docuerunt  ore  magistri, 

Ne  vaga  mens  perdat,  cuncta  dedi  foljis.'    Migne,  czii  1600-1. 
K  2 


132 

CHAP. 
III. 


The 

monastic 
schools  at 
Corbey,  St. 
Eiquier,  St. 
Martin  of 
Metz,  St 
Bertin,  &c. 


RABANUS  MAURUS. 

tendencies  exhibited  in  Martianus  Capella,  but  he  could  not 
fail  to  be  aware  how  great  an  attraction  that  writer's  alle- 
gorical method  of  treatment  possessed  for  the  ordinary 
learner.  He  accordingly  himself  composed  a  poem  of  about 
a  hundred  lines  containing  a  fanciful  description  of  the  sub- 
jects of  the  trivium  and  quadrivium,  wherein,  however,  all 
sceptical  or  speculative  discourse  was  carefully  eschewed.1 
We  can  hardly  suppose,  from  the  character  of  the  composi- 
tion, that  it  enjoyed  much  popularity  beyond  the  range  of  the 
bishop's  own  diocese.  Ably  seconded  by  the  poet  Wulfin, 
Theodulfus  raised  the  school  at  Orleans  to  considerable 
eminence.  It  became  especially  famous  for  the  number, 
beauty,  and  accuracy  of  its  manuscripts.  Le*on  Maitre,  on 
somewhat  doubtful  evidence,  inclines  to  the  belief  that  it 
was  also  distinguished  as  a  school  of  civil  law. 

Yet  more  renowned  was  the  episcopal  school  at  Rheims, 
which,  under  the  protection  of  Hincmar,  the  oracle  and 
arbiter  of  the  state  in  the  days  of  Charles  the  Bald,  and 
under  the  teaching  of  archbishop  Fulk,  of  Eemy  of  Auxerre, 
and  of  Hucbald,  claims  the  proud  distinction,  of  having 
preserved,  in  this  century,  that  tradition  of  learning  which 
links  the  episcopal  schools  with  the  University  of  Paris. 

But  throughout  the  ninth  century,  and  indeed  for  the 
greater  part  of  the  period  known  as  '  the  Benedictine  era/ — 
the  four  centuries  preceding  the  reign  of  Philip  Augustus, — 
the  work  of  the  episcopal  schools  was  completely  eclipsed  by 
that  of  the  monasteries.  At  Corbey,  near  Amiens,  under 
Adelhard  and  Wala,  who  both  retired  thither,  and  under 
Paschasius  Kadbertus,  was  gathered  a  society  eminent  for 
its  learning  and  illustrious  as  a  parent  foundation.  It  dis- 
appears beneath  the  waves  of  the  Norman  invasion ;  but  its 
namesake,  New  Corbey,  in  Saxony,  sustained  with  equal 
reputation,  and  more  auspicious  fortunes,  the  scholarly  tradi- 
tions of  the  age.2  The  great  abbey  of  St.  Eiquier,  under 
the  rule  of  Angilbert,  rivalled  the  school  at  Eheims  in  lit- 

1  See   De  Septem  Liberalibus  in  quadam  pictura  depictis.     Migne,  cv 
383-5. 

2  Walae  Vita.    MabiUon,  vol.  v ;  Pertz,  ii  578-81. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  133 

erary  activity  ;  and  an  inventory  of  its  possessions,  made  in  CHAP, 
the  year  831  by  the  direction  of  Lewis  the  Pious,  included  v_  '  - 
a  library  of  no  less  than  231  volumes.1  The  abbey  of  St. 
Martin  at  Metz,  under  the  rule  of  Aldricus,  was  scarcely  less 
celebrated ; 2  a  Bible  presented  by  its  monks  to  Charles  the 
Bald  and  the  missal  of  bishop  Drogo  are  still  preserved,  and 
rank  among  the  most  valued  specimens  of  ninth-century  arfc. 
The  society  of  St.  Mihiel-sur-Meuse  enjoyed  the  instruction 
of  Smaragdus,  whose  compend  from  Donatus  frequently  ap- 
pears in  the  catalogues  of  the  libraries  of  the  period.  St. 
Bertin,  in  the  diocese  of  Cambrai,  laid  claim  to  the  distin- 
guished honour  of  having  educated  Grimbald,  king  Alfred's 
able  seconder  in  his  efforts  towards  a  restoration  of  learn- 
ing in  England.3  At  Ferrieres,  in  the  Gatinais,  the  genius 
of  Lupus  Servatus  shone  forth  in  the  troublous  and  dis- 
heartening period  which  immediately  preceded  and  followed 
upon  the  division  of  the  empire. 

The  South  and  the  South- West  present  fewer  evidences  of 
culture ;  and  in  the  ninth  century  no  foundation,  either  in. 
Normandy  or  Brittany,  can  be  said  to  have  reached  cele- 
brity ;  while  in  Aquitaine,  if  we  except  the  labours  of  Bene- 
dict of  Aniane  in  the  diocese  of  Montpellier,  the  efforts  of 
Lewis  the  Pious  on  behalf  of  his  patrimonial  kingdom  seem 
to  have  been  baffled  by  the  frequent  recurrence  of  war. 

Amid  the  evidence  of  these  widespread  results  from  the  Decline  of 
movement  with  which  Alcuin's  name  is  identified,  it  is  melan-  at8T^^ 
oholy  to  note  how  completely  his  own  monastery  failed  to 
maintain  the  reputation  acquired  under  his  sway.    Learning 
has  rarely  prospered  in  conjunction  with  inordinate  wealth, 
and  Tours  proved  no  exception  to  the  rule.     Fredegis,  the  Fredegis. 
new  abbat,  with  his  worldly  tastes  and  fantastic  notions  in 
philosophy,  was  not  the  man  to  enforce  discipline  or  give 
example  to  a  learned  community.     He  was,  however,  from 
his  influence  at  court,  where  he  was  in  frequent  attendance 
on  the  emperor,  and  often  employed  on  diplomatic  missions, 
well  able  to  watch  over  the  material  interests  of  the  abbey2 

1  LSon  Maitre,  p.  G6.  z  Baloze,  Miscell  i  19. 

3  Bollandus,  Jwllet,  ii  651. 


134  RABANUS  MAURU8. 

CHAP,  and  his  appointment  was  consequently  popular  with  the 
.  ni-  _.  monks.  As  for  the  monastery  itself,  Alcuin,  long  before  his 
Alcuin's  death,  seems  to  have  clearly  foreseen  that  its  enormous 
revenues,  the  frequent  visits  of  aristocratic  guests  with  their 


verified.  retinues,  and  almost  incessant  commerce  with  the  world 
without,  rendered  it  in  the  highest  degree  improbable  that 
the  Benedictine  rule  would  long  continue  to  be  faithfully 
observed.  He  had  done  what  lay  in  his  power  to  found  a 
house  of  stricter  discipline,  by  sending  twenty  monks  from 
his  own  cell  of  St.  Judoc  *  to  form  the  nucleus  of  a  new 
society  at  Cormery.  In  relation  to  Tours,  his  forebodings 
proved  only  too  just  ;  within  a  few  years,  this  richly-endowed 
foundation  acquired  an  unenviable  notoriety  from  the  fact  that 
Fees  it  demanded  the  payment  of  fees  from  its  scholars.  The  school 
exacted  for  fo&  externi  by  a  kind  of  tacit  agreement,  seems  to  have 

Irom'flie  '  >  J 

been  converted  into  an  exclusive  and  aristocratic  centre  of 
education  for  the  sons  of  the  wealthier  laity.  Amalaric, 
the  archbishop  of  the  diocese  —  who  claimed  jurisdiction  over 
the  school,  as  one  partly  designed  for  the  education  of  his 
own  clergy  —  energetically  denounced  what  he  stigmatised  as 
an  abominable  practice,  and  ordered  that  no  fees  should  be 
taken  except  those  that  were  spontaneously  offered.2  We 
may  willingly  conclude,  indeed,  that  Tours  was  an  exception 
to  the  rule;  it  must  certainly  have  appeared  a  singular 
contrast  when  the  traveller  saw  inscribed  over  the  portals  of 
the  far  less  wealthy  foundation  of  St.  Peter  at  Salzburg, 
the  encouraging  words, 

Jtiscere  si  cupias,  gratis,  quod  qiiaeris,  habelis.9 
Towards  the  middle  of  the  century,  the  position  of  the 
monastery  of  Tours  on  the  banks  of  the  Loire  exposed  it  to 
the  full  brunt  of  the  Norman  invasion.  It  was  mercilessly 
plundered  ;  and  when,  two  centuries  later,  it  again  became 
famous,  it  was  in  connexion  with  the  brilliant  heterodoxy  of 
Berengar. 

1  '  Cellam  eancti  Judoci,  quam  magnus  Caroliis  quondam  Alcuino  ad 
«leemosynara  exhibendam  peregrinia  commiserat.'  Lupus  Serv.  Epist.  11, 
It  was  given  to  Alcuin  in  792.  Oallia  Christiana,  \  1289. 

8  L6on  Maitre,  pp.  49,  203. 

'  The  concluding  line  of  some  verses  attributed  to  Alcuiii.  Migne,  ci  757. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  135 

It  is  not,  however,  only  in  separate  dioceses  and  isolated  CHAP. 
monasteries  that  we  have  evidence  of  well-sustained  efforts 
towards  bringing  about  a  more  general  diffusion  of  educa- 
tion. To  Lewis  the  Pious  the  Church  and  the  culture  of 
her  ministers  were  objects  of  increasing  care.  '  The  state's 
advancement  in  holy  learning  and  holy  life,'  one  admiring 
biographer  assures  us,  absorbed  alike  his  hours  of  business 
and  of  recreation.1  And  while  his  incapacity  for  military 
and  political  affairs  excited  the  contempt  of  count  Wala 
and  the  nobility,  he  had,  in  Benedict  of  Aniane,  a  friend 
ever  ready  to  advise  and  to  strengthen  his  natural  feebleness 
of  purpose.  It  is  possible  that  Benedict's  death,  in  821, 
caused  a  temporary  suspension  of  the  emperor's  efforts,  for 
in  the  following  year,  at  the  Council  of  Attigny, — on  the  same 
occasion  as  that  on  which  he  did  public  penance  for  his 
cruelty  towards  his  nephew  Bernard  and  his  severity  towards 
Adelhard  and  Wala, — the  language  of  a  new  decree  concern- 
ing the  schools  for  the  clergy  implies  a  consciousness  of 
undue  remissness  in  this  respect.  Learning  and  preaching,  Lewis' 
says  this  capitulary,  are  essential  to  the  welfare  of  the  reforms' 
state;  but  the  preacher's  office  can  be  rightly  discharged 
only  by  learned  men ;  hence  it  is  of  primary  importance 
that  such  men  should  be  found  in  every  locality.  It  is  ac- 
cordingly decreed  that  every  individual,  whether  a  youth  or 
an  adult,  in  course  of  training  with  the  view  of  occupying 
any  position  in  the  Church,  shall  have  a  fixed  place  of  re- 
sort and  a  suitable  master.  If  the  extent  of  a  parish  should 
render  it  impracticable  to  assemble  the  scholars  at  any  one 
centre,  other  schools  are  to  be  opened,  to  meet  the  difficulty. 
Parents  and  lords  are  required  to  provide  for  the  main- 
tenance of  each  scholar  *  in  order  that  indigence  may  not 
debar  him  from  a  course  of  study.' 2  In  the  following  year, 

1  '  Haec  erat  sancti  Imperatoris  exercitatio,  hie  cotidiamss  Indus,  haec 
palaestrica  agonia,  spectante  eo  quo  civitas  in  saiicta  doctrina  et  operatione 
clarius  euiteret.'     Vit.  Ludov.  c.  28  ;  Pert/,  ii  G22. 

2  '  Quia  vero  liquido  constat,  quod  salus  populi  niaxime  in  doctrina  et 
praedicatione  consistat,  et  praedicatio  eadeui  iiupleri  ita  nt  pportet  non 
potest,  nisi  a  doctis,  necesse  est,  ut  ordo  talis  in  singulis  sedibus  inveniatur, 
per  quain  et  praesens  eaieudatio  et  futura  utilitus  sanctae  ecclesiae  preparetur  j 


136 


RABANUS  MAURUS. 


CHAP. 

ni. 


Petition  of 
the  bishops 
for  the 
founding 
of  three 
public 
schools, 
A.B.  829. 


Outbreak 
of  civil 
war. 


we  find  the  austere  monarch  recalling  to  the  recollection 
of  the  episcopal  order  their  promises,  already  given,  to  found 
schools  wherever  necessity  demanded,  *  for  the  benefit  of  the 
faithful  and  the  ministers  of  the  Church.' l  This  reminder 
was  met  in  the  ensuing  year,  by  a  decree  of  the  episcopal 
council  convened  at  Paris,  when  it  was  resolved  that  it  was 
desirable  that  each  bishop  '  should  henceforth  exercise  greater 
diligence  in  instituting  schools  and  in  training  and  educating 
soldiers  for  the  service  of  Christ's  Church  ; '  *  whenever/  it 
was  added,  '  a  provincial  council  of  the  order  is  convened, 
let  each  bishop  cause  his  scholastici  to  attend  the  same,  in 
order  that  their  efforts  may  be  under  due  control.' 2 

That  these  endeavours  to  bring  about  a  great  and  general 
reform  were  on  the  point  of  being  crowned  with  considerable 
success  may  be  inferred  from  the  fact  that  in  the  year  829, 
on  the  eve  of  the  rebellion  of  Lewis'  sons,  the  bishops  again 
assembled  at  Paris  and  drew  up  a  petition  to  the  emperor, 
in  which  they  besought  him  to  provide  for  the  establishment 
of  three  large  public  schools,  in  the  three  most  suitable  places 
in  the  empire,  '  in  order  that  his  father's  efforts  and  his  own 
might  not  fall  into  decay.' 3  These  schools  were  to  be  open 
to  the  clergy  and  the  monasteries  alike  ;  and  had  the  scheme 
been  carried  into  effect,  it  is  not  improbable  that  the  his- 
torian, in  exploring  the  origines  of  our  European  universi- 
ties, might  have  found  it  necessary  to  revert  three  centuries 
further  back  for  the  purpose  of  tracing  out  their  first  com- 
mencement. But  in  the  following  year  the  war  broke  out, 
and  from  that  time  up  to  the  death  of  Lewis  the  Pious  and 

.  .  .  scholas  autem,  de  quibus  hactenus  minus  studiosi  fuimus  quam 
debueramus,  omnino  studiosissime  emendare  cupinms,  qualiter  omnis  homo 
sive  majoris  sivo  minoris  aetatis,  qui  ad  hoc  nutritur  ut  in  aliquo  gradu  in 
ecclesia  promo veatur,  locum  denominatum  et  magistrum  congruum  habeat. 
Parentes  tamen  vel  domini  singulorum  de  victu  vel  substantia  corporali  unde 
subsistant  providere  studeant,  qualiter  solacium  habeant,  ut  propter  rerum 
inopiam  doctrinae  studio  non  recedant.  Si  vero-  necessitas  fuerit  propter 
amplitudinem  parroechiae,  eo  quod  in  uno  loco  colligi  non  possunt  propter 
jvilministmtionem  quam  eis  procuratores  eorum  providere  debent,  fiat  locis 
duobus  aut  tribus,  vel  etiam  ut  necessitas  et  ratio  dictaverit.'  Pertz,  Legg. 
i231. 

1  Baluze,  i  634.  *  Ibid,  i  1137. 

3  Quoted  in  Le"on  Maitre,  p.  25. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  137 

the  division  of  the  empire  in  841,  the  arts  of  peace  had 
small  scope  for  developement.  The  deacon  Morus,  in  that 
lugubrious  chant  wherein  he  compares  the  past  and  present 
condition  of  the  disunited  and  desolated  realm,  draws  the 
contrast  in  colours  which  seem  respectively  to  belong  to  eras 
separated  by  centuries : 

*  Omne  bonum  pacis  odiis  laniatnr  acerbis,  Lament  of 
Omne  decus  regni  furiis  fuscatnr  iniquis  :                                Floras. 
Ecclesiae  dejectus  honos  jacet  ecce  sepultus ; 

Jura  sacerdotum  penitus  e versa  ruerunt ; 

Divinae  jam  legis  amor  terrorque  recessit ; 

Et  scita  jam  canonum  cunctorum  calce  teruntur.' 

Quis  digne  expediat  monachorum  saepta  revulsa 

Sacratas  Domini  famulas  laicale  subisse 

Infami  ditione  jugum,  rectoribus  ipsis 

Ecclesiae  armorum  impositam  caedisque  periclam  ? ' 

Such  is  the  picture  he  exhibits  side  by  side  with  that 

when, 

*  Princeps  turns  erat,  populus  quoque  subditus  unus : 
Lex  simul  et  judex  totas  ornaverat  urbes  : 

Pax  cives  tenuit,  virtus  extermit  hostes : 
Alma  sacerdotum  certatim  euro-  vigebat 
Conciliis  crebris,  populus  pia  jura  ministrans. 
Hinc  sacris  cleris,  nine  plebibus  eximiisque 
Principibus  late  resonabat  sermo  salutis. 
Discebant  jwvenes  divina  volumina  passim  : 
Littereas  artes  puerorum  corda  bibebnnt.' l 

We  have  already  adverted  to  the  somewhat  ascetic  ten- 
dencies of  Lewis'  character  and  his  dislike,  inherited  from 
Alcuin,  of  pagan  literature ;  some  writers,  indeed,  while 
admitting  that  education  became  more  widely  diffused  under 
his  rule,  have  been  disposed  to  look  upon  the  period  as  one 
of  retrogression  as  regards  the  higher  culture.  It  is  certain 
that  during  the  last  twelve  years  of  his  reign,  the  most  con- 
spicuous efforts  of  learning  and  philosophy  are  to  be  looked 
for  in  regions  comparatively  remote  from  his  influence  and 
far  beyond  the  limits  of  modern  France. 

1  Flori  Diaconi  Lugdunensis   Querda  de  Divisione  Imperil  post  Mortem 
Ludovici  Pit,    Dom  Bouquet,  vii  301-2. 


138  RABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP.  Before  Alcuiri  died,  there  had  come  to  Tours  a  young 
-^-^  _  .  monk,  a  native  of  Mayence,  attracted  by  the  great  teacher's 
Babanus  fame  and  burning  with  the  desire  for  knowledge.  He  came 

"W 

i.'rTeT'  from  Fulda,  where  ever  since  the  time  of  Sturm,  its  first 
£856.  abbat  and  the  disciple  of  St.  Boniface,  down  to  that  of 
Baugulfus,  the  Benedictine  rule  had  been  maintained  with 
a  fidelity  which  earned  for  the  monastery  the  reverence  of 
all  Frankland.  Rabanus  —  for  it  is  of  him  we  speak  —  at  the 
time  that  he  entered  the  walls  of  St.  Martin,  in  the  year  802, 
was  probably  about  twenty  -six  years  of  age  ;  l  the  names  of 


as  a  some  of  his  fellow-students  at  Fulda  shew  that  the  school 
education.  was  already  in  repute  as  a  centre  of  learning.  Among  the 
number,  about  this  time,  was  Bernard,  the  grandson  of 
Charles  the  Great,  afterwards  king  of  Italy,  whose  tragical 
end  leaves  so  dark  a  stain  on  the  memory  of  Lewis  the  Pious. 
There  were  also  Baturicus,  Treculfus,  and  Haymo,  afterwards 
respectively  raised  to  the  sees  of  Regensburg,  Lisieux,  and 
Halberstadt  ;  and  Samuel,  afterwards  bishop  of  Worms,  who 
preceded  Rabanus  to  Tours  and  returned  with  him  from 
thence  to  Fulda.  Baugulfus,  in  the  year  802,  laid  ,£own 
his  office  as  abbat,  and  was  succeeded  by  Ratgar,  an  energe- 
tic, though,  as  we  shall  shortly  see,  a  far  from  desirnble 
head.  Ratgar  seems  to  have  been  really  desirous,  at  this 
time,  of  maintaining  the  reputation  of  Fulda,  and  with  this 
view  he  placed  the  most  promising  of  the  younger  monks 
under  the  instruction  of  the  ablest  scholars  of  the  day. 
Candidus  was  sent  to  receive  instruction  from  Einhard; 
Rabanus  is  Modestus,  from  Clement  of  Ireland;  Rabanus,  at  his  own 
U1'gen^  request,  to  Tours,  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Alcuin.  About 
at  the  third  year  of  the  ninth  century  we  accordingly  find  these 
two  meeting  for  the  first  time,  their  sentiments  and  aims 
in  singular  contrast  —  the  young  monk,  with  desires  that 
stretched  from  Fulda  to  Tours  in  the  quest  of  learning  — 
the  aged  abbat,  with  his  thoughts  turning  from  Tours  to 
Fulda  in  the  expectation  of  death. 

Rabanus  remained,  at  Tours  for  only  one  year,  but  the 

1  See  Leben  des  heilif/en  Rhtibanus  Mauruft,  bj  Spongier  :  Regensburg, 
1856  ;  a  more  critical  production  than  the  better  known  Life  by  Kunstmanu. 


THE  SdHOOL  AT  FULDA.  139 

time  amply  sufficed  for  him  to  win  the  abbat's  marked  fa-  CHAP, 
vour.  His  devotion  and  filial  affection  induced  Alciiin  to  .  IIL  ^ 
bestow  upon  him  the  name  of  Manrus.  St.  Maur  was  the 
favourite  disciple  of  St.  Benedict,  and  in  giving  Rabanus 
this  name,  Alcuin  intended  to  imply  that  the  obedience  and 
piety  of  the  young  monk  of  Monte  Cassiuo  had  found  their 
counterpart  at  Tours.1  Rabanus  returned  to  Fulda,  having  Hjg  retTirn 
conceived  a  deep,  perhaps  an  exaggerated,  admiration  for  his  &>  Fulda. 
preceptor,  and  bent  upon  an  exact  reproduction  of  his  teach- 
ing. He  was  accompanied  by  Samuel,  in  whom  he  after- 
wards found  a  sympathising  and  able  co-operator  in  his 
plans.  A  letter  from  Alcuin,  written  in  the  same  year, 
shews  that  the  kindly  thought  of  the  infirm  old  man  followed 
his  disciple  across  the  Rhine,  and  conveys  his  greetings  to 
the  whole  community  at  Fulda.  Rabanus,  it  would  seem, 
had  written  to  beg  that  Alcuin  would  favour  him  with  a 
narrative  of  his  own  life ;  emulous  of  his  revered  teacher's 
fame  and  virtues,  he  would  fain  take  example  thereby. 
Alcuin,  however,  modestly  expresses  his  surprise  at  the  re- 
quest, and  intimates  that  a  far  better  pattern  of  life  is  to 
be  found  in  the  careers  of  the  holy  men  of  Scripture. 

Soon  after  his  return  to  Fulda,  Rabanus  was  appointed  is  ap- 
teacher  of  the  monastery  school.     He  was  now  in  his  twenty-  j^JJ^J 
seventh  or  twenty-eighth  year,  and  we  may  well  believe  of  the 
that  no   better  selection   could  possibly  have  been  made.  ™ 
It  was  not  his  good  fortune  to  find,  in  the  earlier  part  of 
his  experience,  a  sphere  of  labour  as  tranquil  and  dignified 
as  that  which  Alcuin  enjoyed  at  Tours.     With  the  com-  calamit- 
mencement  of  the  century,  the  Saxons  again  rose  in  insur-  ous. ex- 

periences 

rection,  and  Fulda  was  in  the  centre  of  the  war.    The  sur-  of  the  com  - 
rounding  districts  were  visited  by  famine,  and  in  the  year  mumty- 
807  a  malignant  fever  carried  off  the  majority  of  the  monks. 
The  numbers  fell  from  400  to  150  ;  and  among  those  who 
died  were  many  of  the  younger  and  most  promising  members. 
The  scholars  rebelled  and  fled.    The  incidents  of  a  subse- 

1  In  one  of  his  poems  (Migne,  ci  794)  Alcuin  addresses  Rabanus  as 
'  sancti  puer  Benedict! ; '  see  also  the  letter  addressed  '  Benedicto  sancti 
Benedict!  puero.'  Ibid,  c  398. 


140  RABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP,     quent  episode  in  the  history  of  the  society  afford  a  curious 
^_  ni>    ^  illustration  of  the  conditions  under  which  the  monastic  life 
Misrule  of  was  pursued  in  these  times.      The   abbat,  Ratgar,  had  a 
6ar"       passion  for  building,  which  seems  to  have  amounted  almost 
to  a  monomania,  and  his  sole  idea  was  the  completion  and 
adornment  of  a  new  church  and  other  erections  in  connex- 
ion with  the  monastery.     The  recent  loss  in  numbers  only 
suggested  to  him  the  necessity  of  demanding  more  strenuous 
exertion  from  the  remaining  hands  ;  and  the  severity  with 
which  his  exactions  were  now  enforced  almost  served  to  recall 
Sufferings    ^ne  condition  of  the  Israelites  under  Pharaoh.     All  study 
tent  of  the  was  at  an  end,  the  most  promising  students  being  deprived 
monks.        Qf  faeir  books.     The  masses  were  reduced  in  number.     Many 
» of  the  monks  died,  worn  out  by  toil,  and  often,  to  the  univer- 
sal scandal,  without  having  received  the  last  sacraments. 
In  the  libellus  supplex,  which  they  eventually  presented  to  the 
emperor,  they  describe  the  culpable  neglect  of  the  sick,  the 
cruelty  with  which  the  infirm  were  refused  even  a  staff  to  sup- 
port them  in  walking ;  while  at  the  same  time  lures  were  held 
out  to  induce  strangers  to  join  the  community,  with  the  sole 
view  of  gaining  possession  of  their  property.     Of  these  many 
were  utterly  unqualified  for  the  monastic  life,  and  their  con- 
duct brought  the  discipline  of  the  house  to  a  state  of  utter 
demoralisation.     Rabanus  was  among  those  who  were  com- 
pelled to  surrender*  their  books,  and  the  verses  are  still  extant 
in  which  he  pleads  pathetically  for  their  return.    He  implores 
Ratgar,  whom  he  styles  (we  must  suppose  by  poetic  licence) 
monachorum  optime  pastor,  to  restore  the  cherished  volumes,  in 
order  that  the  instruction  he  has  himself  received  from  the 
abbat  and  noted  down  may  not  fade  from  his  memory.     He 
begs  for  them  not  as  his  own  property,  for  he,  a  monk,  has 
nothing  he  can  rightfully  call  his  own,  but  as  a  gracious 
favour,  which,  once  conceded,  he  will  never  fail  to  offer  up 
prayers  on  his  superior's  behalf.1 

Ratgar,  however,  remained  totally  unmoved  by  these  and 
similar  entreaties ;  but  at  last  some  report  of  the  state  of 
affairs  reached  the  imperial  ears,  and  Riculfus,  archbishop 
1  Migne,  cxii  1600-1 ;  see  also  supra,  p.  131;  n.  1, 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA. 

of  Mayence  (Alcuin's  '  Damoetas  '),  was  sent  to  institute  an     CHAP. 
enquiry.      The  archbishop,   himself  an  energetic  builder,1   ^   nr- 
seems  to  have  been  more  pleased  by  Eatgar's  architectural 
designs  than  concerned  at  the   suspension  of  the  work  of 
education ;  he  not  merely  uttered  no  protest,  but  even  con- 
sented to  consecrate  the  new  church,  then  just  completed  and 
dedicated  to  the  Virgin.     On  his  departure,  Eatgar  accord- 
ingly pushed  on  the  works  with  fresh  vigour.     He  appropri- 
ated a  tenth  of  the   monastic   property  to   replenish  the 
building  fund,  and  forthwith  began  to  erect  another  church 
at  Johannisberg,  ten  stades  distant.     The  toil  of  the  monks 
became  yet  more  painful,  and  they  now  resolved  on  sending 
a  deputation  to  the  emperor.     Eatgar,  when  he  heard  of  this 
proceeding,  started  himself  for  court,  and  arrived  before  the  Their 
deputation,  who  found   themselves  completely  forestalled.  *&^s  to 
At  length  the  state  of  the  monastic  discipline  became  too  redress, 
notorious  to  be  any  longer  disregarded,  and  the  emperor 
Touchsafed  to  appoint  a   commission  of  enquiry.     It  con- 
sisted of  four  bishops,  who  after  hearing  the  complaints  of 
the  monks,  drew  up  a  formal  agreement,  to  be  binding  on 
both  sides.    They  then  presided  at  the  consecration  of  the 
church  at  Johannisberg,  and  having  thus  given  an  indirect 
sanction  to  the  abbat's  policy,  departed.     The  warning  ap- 
pears to  have  been  altogether  lost  on  Eatgar,  who  shortly 
after  attempted  to  erect  at  Tullifield  a  *  cell '  in  connexion 
with  the  monastery  at  Fulda.     This  time,  however,  the  evi- 
dence arising  from  the  violated  agreement  was  too  indispu- 
table to  be  gainsaid,  and  in  the  year  817  he  was  deposed 
from  his  office.     He  was  succeeded,  after  a  long  interval,  by  Ratgap  js 
a  man  of  very   different   character,  the  gentle  Eigil,  the  deposed 
builder  of  the  *  Michaelskapelle/  which,  as  recently  restored,  appointed 
still  attracts  the  curiosity  of  the  traveller  journeying  from  ™  bls 
Frankfort  to   Grotha.      Eigil  had  been  expelled  from  the 
monastery  by  the  unfeeling  Eatgar  on  account  of  his  feeble 
health  and  inability  to  work ;   he  lived  to  take  a   noble 

1  Riculfus,  who  held  the  archbishopric  twenty-six  years,  rebuilt  the 
church  and  built  the  monastery  ('  percelebre  monasterium/  says  Einhard.) 
at  Mayence.  See  Ottilia  Christiana,  v  444 ;  Einhard,  De  Translations, 
Opera  (ed.  Teulet),  ii  372  ;  Monumenta  Moguntina  (ed.  Jaffe"),  p.  3. 


142 


BAB  ANUS  MAURUS. 


CJ1AP. 
III. 


The 

monastery 
school  re- 
opened. 


Hislte 


Hone  Clcri 
corum. 


revenge.  Within  a  few  months  after  his  election  to  the 
abba.tship,  Ratgar  appeared  as  a  suppliant  for  re-admission. 
It  was  not  in  Eigil's  power  to  grant  this  request,  but  his 
influence  was  used  to  gain  for  it  a  favourable  response  at 
court,  and  Ratgar,  for  thirteen  years  .longer,  lived  a  submis- 
sive and  penitent  member  of  the  community  which  had 
suffered  so  much  at  his  hands. 

Between  Eigil  and  Rabanus  there  appears  to  have  existed 
the  most  complete  sympathy ;  the  latter  was  reinstated  in 
his  post  as  teacher  of  the  monastery  school,  and  his  reputation 
soon  drew  around  him  a  body  of  scholars  far  exceeding  the 
former  in  number.  To  such  a  degree  was  this  the  case, 
that  the  decree  of  the  Council  of  Aachen,  promulgated  in 
the  preceding  year,  for  separating  the  oblati  from  the  ex- 
temes,  was  felt  as  a  sensible  relief,  and  a  second  school  was 
erected  ontside  the  monastery  walls.  Eigil's  tenure  of  his 
office  lasted  only  three  years  and  a  half,  after  which  the 
vacancy  occasioned  by  his  death  was  forthwith  filled  by  the 
unanimous  election  of  Rabanus.  From  this  time  we  may 
look  upon  the  influence  of  the  new  abbat  not  merely  as 
supreme  at  Fulda,  but  also  as  sensibly  felt  throughout  the 
empire.  It  becomes  accordingly  an  enquiry  of  no  little  in- 
terest and  importance  to  endeavour  to  ascertain,  with  some 
precision  and  certainty,  the  extent  and  nature  of  those  ser- 
vices which  have  won  for  him  the  title  of  primus  Germaniae 
praeceptor. 

It  was  in  the  year  that  he  was  again  installed  as  instructor 
at  Eulda,  the  year  819,  that  Rabanus  composed  the  treatise 
by  which  he  is  probably  best  known, — the  De  Institutione 
Clericorwn.  He  had  already,  through  the  influence  of  Bau- 
gulfus,  been  admitted  a  deacon  of  the  Church, — a  step  pro- 
bably designed  to  pave  the  way  for  that  promotion  to  eccle- 
siastical dignities  for  which  his  talents  marked  him  out; 
and  his  efforts  from  this  time  seem  to  have  been  directed 
rather  to  clerical  than  monastic  education.  If  we  imagine 
atutor  at  Cambridge,  one  like  Whichcote  of  Emmanuel  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  or  like  Laughton  of  Clare  Hall  in  the 
eighteenth,  actually  engaged  in  the  work  of  instruction, 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA,  143 

compiling  a  Student's  Guide  for  the  use  of  his  pupils,  the     CHAP, 
scope  and  character  of  such  a  work,  making  due  allowance   ^   *IIj  __,. 
for  widely  different  conditions,  would  fairly  represent  the 
aim   of   Rabanus  in  the  ninth  century.     On  November  1, 
819,  Haistulfus,  the  archbishop  of  Maintz,  came  to  consecrate 
the  new  monastery  church  at  Fulda,  and  was  formally  pre- 
sented by  Rabanus  with  a  copy  of  his  new  treatise. 

The  De  Institutione  Clericorum  has  more  than  once  been 
justly  appealed  to,  as  evidence  that  strongly  contravenes  the 
exaggerated  representations  of  certain  writers  with  respect 
to  the  ignorance  of  the  clergy  in  these  times.     The  mere 
fact  that  it  was  compiled  to  meet  a  recognised  want,  and  at 
the  request  of  many  of  the  community  at  Fulda,  is  alone 
sufficient  proof  that  the  prevailing  tone  was  far  from  being 
one  of  vulgar  and   illiterate  contempt  for  learning.     The  The  rules 
precepts  enjoined  are  founded  upon  acknowledged  and  well-  iaia  down 
ascertained  authority — on  Cyprian,  Hilary,  Ambrose,  Jerome,  derived 
Augustine,  Cassiodorus,  Gregory,  and  John  of  Damascus ;  from  the 
but  it  is  worthy  of  note  that  while,  in  laying  down  the  canon  iathers* 
of  Scripture,  Rabanus    adverts    to  the  doubt  recorded  by 
Isidorus  with  respect  to  the  authenticity  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,1  he  gives  no  sanction  to  the  spurious  letter  to  the 
Laodiceans,  which  Alcuin  had  transcribed   in  the  famous 
6  Charlemagne's  Bible.' 2 

With  respect  to  pagan  literature  and  secular  learning,  the  Gcater 
tone  of  Rabanus  resembles  that  of  Alcuin,  but  he  exhibits 
far  more  liberality  of  sentiment.3  He  deems  it  necessary, 
it  is  true,  to  vindicate  the  study  of  the  laws  of  metre,  on  the 
ground  that  they  are  applicable  to  the  Hebrew  psalter,  and 
that  the  metrical  art  has  been  cultivated  by  many  Christian 
poets ;  but,  so  far  from  condemning  the  perusal  of  pagan 

1  * ...  eandemque  alii  Barnabam  conscripsisse,  alii  a  Clemente  scriptam 
fuisse  suspicantur.'     Opera,  vi  30. 

2  Still  preserved  in  the  British  Museum. 

3  His  definition  of  grammar — 'Grammatica  est  scientia  interpretandi 
poetas  atque  historicos  et  recte  scribendi  loquendiqne  ratio.   Haec  et  origo  et 
fundamentum  est  artium  liberalium  '  (vi  41) — would  appear  to  imply  that  lie 
•was  endeavouring  to  revert  to  tliat  more  liberal  conception  of  the  study 
•which  Gregory  and  Alcuin  had  sought  to  aet  aside :  see  supra,  p.  77, 


144 

CHAP. 
III. 

s , , 

His  esti- 
mate of 
pagan 
literature, 
rhetoric, 
and  dia- 
lectic. 


RABANUS  MAURUS.    • 

poetry,  he  implicitly  recommends  it,  simply  advising  the 
rejection  of  the  dross  and  the  appropriation  of  the  gold.  As 
for  rhetoric,  he  urges  that  though  its  especial  province  is 
the  arena  of  civil  disputes,  it  has  also  its  uses  in  the  Church. 
It  renders  the  preacher  better  able  to  expound  the  word  of 
God.  Who,  he  asks,  will  seriously  maintain  that  truth,  in 
opposing  error,  is  bound  to  enter  upon  the  conflict  unarmed, 
so  that  while  those  who  seek  to  persuade  others  to  believe 
what  is  false  shall  understand  how  to  bespeak  the  attention 
and  goodwill  of  their  audience,  and  to  express  their  ideas 
concisely,  plainly,  and  plausibly,  their  opponents  shall  be 
wholly  destitute  of  such  capacity?1  With  respect  to  dia- 
lectic (which,  following  Alcuin,  he  includes  with  rhetoric 
under  the  head  of  logic) 2  his  divergence  from  his  master's 
views  is  still  more  discernible.  In  fact,  it  would  seem  that 
the  decline  of  the  orthodox  mistrust  of  the  art  may  be  held 
to  date  from  his  teaching.3  He  assigns  to  dialectic  a  real 
and  special  value.  '  Dialectica,'  says  Alcuin,  '  est  disciplina 
rationalis  quaerendi,  diffiniendi,  et  disserendi,  etiam  et  vera  a 
falsis  discernendi  potens.'  His  disciple  repeats  this  defini- 
tion, but  adds,  c  haec  ergo  disciplina  discipUnarwm  est,  haec 
docet  docere,  scit  scire  sola  et  seientes  facers  non  solum  vult  sed 
etiam  potest.'  i  Wherefore,'  he  goes  on  to  say,  *  it  behoves 
the  clergy  to  become  acquainted  with  this  most  noble  art, 
that  they  may  thereby  be  able  accurately  to  discern  the 
craftiness  of  unbelievers,  and  to  confute  their  assertions  by 
the  magical  conclusions  of  syllogisms.'4 

1  '  Nam  cuin  per  artem  rhetoricam  et  vera  euadeantur  et  falsa,  quis  au- 
deat  dicere  adversus  mendacium  in  defensoribus  suis  inermem  debere  con- 
sistere  veritatem,  ut  videlicet  illi  qui  res  falsas  suadere  conantur,  noverint 
auditorem  vel  beiiivolem,  vel  intentum,  vel  facere  docilem  procenrio,  isti  ant  em 
non  noverint  P    Ille  falsa  breviter,  aperte,  verisimiliter,  et  isti  vera  sic 
narrent  ut  audire  taedeat,  intelligere  non  pateat,  credere  postremo  non 
libeat  ?  illi  fallacibus  arguments  veritatem  oppugnent,  asserant  falsitatem, 
isti  nee  vera  defendere  nee  falsa  valeant  refutare  ? '    vi  41, 

2  '  Logica  autem  dividitur  in  duas  species,  hoc  est  dialecticam  et  rhetor- 
icam.'   De  Univereo  xv  i ;  MigTie,  cxi  444. 

3  Prantl  readily  admits,  while  denying  Rabanus'  authorship  of  the  gloss 
on  Boethius,  that  his  teaching  had  '  auf  den  Betrieb  der  Logik  einen  hochst 
giinstigen  Einfluss.'     Gesch.  d.  Loyik,  ii  40. 

4  '  Quaproptcr  oportet  clericon  hunc  artem  nobilissimam  scire  .  .  .  ut 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  145 

A  similar  breadth  of  judgement  characterises  his  treat-     CHAP. 
ment  of  philosophy.     He  holds  that  if  any  of  the  schools,   .    IIL    ^ 
and  especially  the  Platonists,  are  to  be  found  maintaining  Philo- 
doctrine  that  harmonises  with  the  Christian  faith,  instead  80Phy' 
of  regarding  their  teaching  with  mistrust,  we  shall  do  well 
to  convert  it  to  our  own  use.     Just  as  the  Israelites,  when 
they  went  forth  from  Egypt,  while  they  looked  with  abhor- 
rence on  the  idols  of  their  masters,  bore  off  their  gold  and 
silver  vessels.      With  how   much   silver   and   raiment,  he 
exclaims,  did   Cyprian,  that  most  delightful  teacher  and 
blessed  martyr,   Lactantius,  Victorious,  Optatus,   and   St. 
Hilary,  and  *  innumerabiles  grammatici,'  go  forth  from  the 
Egyptian  land  !     We  can  hardly  doubt  that  Julian's  decree 
must  have  been  present  to  his  mind,  when  he  observes  that 
paganism  would  never  have  permitted  such  men  as  these  to 
share  in  its  culture,  could  it  have  foreseen  how  that  culture 
would  be  converted  into  a  weapon  for  its  own  overthrow.1 
The  words  with  which,  when  discussing  the  preacher's  art,  he 
enforces  the  necessity  of  reaching  the  comprehension  of  one's 
audience,  and  of  aiming  accordingly  at  the  many  rather  than 
the  few,  might  well  have  been  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold  on 
every  pulpit  from  his  own  to  the  present  day.2 

Trite  and  commonplace  as  these  sentiments  now  appear, 
they  were  no  less  novel  and  forcible  at  the  time  when  they 
were  put  forth ;  and  the  modern  reader,  who  contrasts  them 
with  the  vague  generalities  that  make  up  so  large  a  portion 
of  Alcuin's  writings,  can  hardly  fail  to  be  struck  with  their 
comparatively  vigorous  and  practical  character. 

In  the  same  year  that  he  was  elected  abbat,  Rabanus  His  corn- 
completed  his  commentary  on  St.  Matthew — the  first  of  his  me°tar7 
Toluminous  labours  in  the  field  of  Scriptural  exposition.  It  Matthew. 

subtiliter  haereticorum  versutiam  hac  possint  dignoscere  eorumque  dicta 
veneficatis  syllogisinorum  eoncluaionibua  confutare.'  De  Inst.  Cle>  icorum, 
Opera,  vi  42. 

1  '  Quibus  omnibus  yiris  superstitiosa  gentium"  consuetude,  et  maxime 
illis  temporibus  cum,  Ghristi  recutiens  jugum,  Ohristianos  persequebatur, 
disciplines  quaa  utiles  habebat  nunquam  commodaret  si  eas  in  usum  colendi 
unius  Dei,  quo  vanus  idolorum  cultus  exscinderetur,  conversas  suspicaretur.' 
vi  44. 

»  Ibid.  p.  46. 


146  HABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP,     is  no  slight  evidence,  in  contravention  of  the  theory  that  the 
__  ^'^  Bible  was  a  rare  and  neglected  book  in  these  times,  to  find 
that  the  treatise  had  been  prepared  at  the  earnest  request  of 
the  brethren,  who  complained  that  they  had  not  so  full  and 
complete  a  commentary  on  this  as  on  the  other  Evangelists.1 
It  probably  indicates  the  bias  of  his  theological  training, 
and    possibly  the    feeling    evoked    by    Charles'   imperious 
adoption  of  the  Filioque,  that  while  referring  to  the  com- 
mentaries by  Origen  and  other  Greek  Fathers,  he  explains 
that  the  expositions  which  he  has  actually  used  are  those  of 
Cyprian,    Eusebius,   Hilary,  Ambrose,   Jerome,   Augustine, 
Fulgentius,  Victorinus,  Fortunianus,  Orosius,  Leo,  Gregory 
of  Nazianzus,   Gregory  the  Great,  and  John  Chrysostoin. 
On  the  traditional  theory  of  interpretation  he  insists  with 
special  emphasis.     The  '  four  senses,'  he  says,  are  the  four 
daughters  of  wisdom.    Of  these,  the  first,  or  historical  sense, 
is  compared  to  *  milk  for  babes ; '  while,  for  those  advancing 
in  knowledge,  there  is  the  allegorical  j  those  of  approved 
piety  and  abounding  in  good  works  are  to  be  satisfied  with 
the  strong  meat  of  the  tropological  'y  while  for  those  whose 
contempt  of  earthly  pleasures  is  complete,  and  whose  affec- 
tions are  fixed  solely  on  heavenly  joys,  there  is  reserved  the 
wine  of  anagoge.2 

Extra-  It  must  be  confessed  that  the  fantastic  interpretation  of 

vagancies    the  simple  narrative  of  Scripture  which  we  find  under  the 
gogical  in-  head  of  Anagogiae  is  such  as  no  sober  criticism  can  commend, 
turpreta-      When  we  are  told  that,  in  the  passage  '  as  many  as  touched 
the  fringe  of  His  garment  were  made  whole,'  the  fringe 
denotes  the  incarnation  of  ,our  Lord, — that  the  basket  of 
rushes  in  which  Moses  was  placed  symbolised  the  Virgin  Mary, 
— that  the  hook  spoken  of  in  Job  xli  1  is  the  type  of  Christ's 
humanity, — that  the  '  sea  of  glass  '  described  in  the  Apoca- 
lypse is  the  ordinance  of  baptism, — while  the  frogs  mentioned 

1  Yet,  notwithstanding:,  Rabanus  was  compelled  to  undergo  the  envy  and 
depreciation  of  that  numerous  class  to  be  found  in  centres  of  learning  in  all 
ages,  '  quorum  nemo  potest  calumniam  et  invidos  morsus  devitare,  nisi  qui 
onmino  nihil  acribit.'  Opera,  v  1. 

3  See  '  Anagogiae,'  Opera,  v  749-823. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA. 

by  the  Psalmist  are  heretics  (f  quod  conventieula  caecorum  et     CHAP. 
ignorantiuin  loquaces  proferunt  haeretieosetimmundos'),  we   ^_IJI'  ^ 
feel  that  the  most  capricious  exposition  of  the '  conventicles  ' 
of  the  seventeenth  century  was  hardly  surpassed  by  that  of 
the  venerated  abbat  of  Fulda  in  the  ninth.     The  triumph  of 
a  critic  of  the  school  of  D'Aubigrie  would  perhaps  be  com- 
plete when  he  found  that  Rabanus  shared  with  Tertullian  a 
belief  in  the  efficacy  of  prayers  for  the  dead.1 

But  while  not  disguising  the  errors  which  Rabanus  held 
in  common  with  his  age,  it  will  be  more  material  to  our 
purpose  to  note  those  points  wherein   he  appears  superior 
not  only  to  his  master,  but  to  most  of  his  contemporaries. 
Perhaps  there  is   no  respect  in  which   he  contrasts  more 
favourably  with  Alcuin  than  when  he  has  occasion  to  deal 
with  natural  phenomena.     The  tendency  of  Alcuin's  mind  Hissupe- 
seems  to  have  been  to  assign  to  every  occult  cause  a  super-  A'lcum  in 
natural  origin ;  Eabanus,  on  the  contrary,  sought  to  resolve  his  int.er" 
each  phenomenon  into  facts  in  harmony  with  the  ordinary  ^natural 
course  of  nature.     Of  this  his  treatise  De  Maqicis  Artibus.  Phen°- 

y  '    uiena. 

written  in  the  year  842,  affords  remarkable  evidence.     He 

seems  to  have  clearly  comprehended  the  theory  represented 

by  what  in  modern  philosophy  is  known  as  a  *  subjective  Theory  of 

illusion,'  whereby  the  appearance  of  ghosts,  evil  spirits,  and 

similar  manifestations,  are  referred  to  a  deception  of  the 

senses  under  the  influence  of  overwrought  mental  faculties. 

To  this  class  of  experiences  he  maintains,  for  instance,  that 

we  must  refer  the  appearance  of  Samuel  to  Saul,  when  the 

latter  had  recourse  to  the  witch  of  Endor ;  looking  upon  it 

*  as  true  not  in  fact,  but  with  respect  to  the  perception  and. 

mind  of  Saul.'  * 

If  we  remember  how  often  the  narrative  in  question  has 
been  cited  as  incontestable  proof  of  the  reality  of  the  powers 

1  '  Orationibus  vero  sanctae  ecclesiae  et  sacrificio  salutari  et  eleemosynis 
quae  pro  illorum  spiritibus  erogantur,  non  est  dubitandum  mortuoa 
adjuvari,  &c.'  Homilia  de  vigilm  defunctorum,  v  624. 

z  '  Sed  si  quia  propter  historian!  ut  ea  quae  verbis  expressa  sunt  putet  non 
praeterniittenda,  ne  ratio  historiae  inanis  sit.  recte  faeiet  quidem  si  tamen 
minime  istud  ad  veri  rapiat  rationem  sed  ad  visum  et  intdlectum  Saul.' 
Opera,  vi  170. 

i  2 


RABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP,  asstuned  under  the  term  witchcraft,  and  also  recall  to  what 
.  nit  .  an  ettent  that  belief,  together  with  trial  by  ordeal,  prevailed 
in  Rabanus*  time,  sanctioned  as  it  was,  moreover,  by  the 
opinion's  of  Fathers  and  the  decrees  of  Councils,  we  shall 
readily  admit  that  the  maintenance  of  a  theory  like  the  fore- 
going attests  a  remarkable,  though  not  a  unique  instance  of 
individual  superiority  to  the  popular  delusions  of  the  ninth 
century.1 

He  rebukes         It  was  in  much  the  same  light  that  Rabanus  appears  to 
stitbr^T    kave  regarded  the   science   of  astrology.      Whilst   Alcuin 
the  na-       taught  that  comets  were  the  souls  of  recently  departed  saints, 
re8'         Jiis  disciple  endeavoured  as  much  as  possible  to  discourage  a 
superstitious  interpretation  of  celestial  phenomena.     In  one 
of  his  homilies  we  have  an  interesting  illustration  of  the 
manner  in  which  he  sought  to  deal  with  this  class  of  delu- 
sions.    The  inhabitants  of  the  district  round  Fulda  were,  in 
many  respects,  scarcely  less  superstitious  than  in  the  days  of 
St.  Boniface ;  and  one  of  Rabanus'  homilies  is  a  remon- 
strance with  those  *who  would  fain  render  help   to  the 
waning  moon.*     *  Some  days  ago/  he  says,  '  when  I  was 
thinking  over  in  the  evening,  within  my  house,  something 
that  should  be  to  your  spiritual  good,  I  heard  outside  an 
outcry  that  seemed  as  though  it  would  reach  the  sky.   On  en- 
quiring into  the  cause  of  this  alarm,  I  was  told  that  it  was 
intended  to  aid  the  moon,  then  on  the  wane.    The  following 
morning,  some  who  came  to  see  me  told  me  that  they  had 
observed  the  same  thing  in  their  district ;  and  that  horns 
had  been  blown  as  though  to  rouse  the  neighbourhood  to 
battle.     Some  imitated  the  grunting  of  swine  ;  others  flung 
darts  or  fire  in  the  direction  of  the  moon,  for  they  said  a 
monster  was  tearing  it  in  pieces,  and  would  certainly  devour 
it  did  they  not  come  to  the  rescue.     With  the  same  view 
some  even   cut  down  the  hedges  of   their  gardens,   and 
smashed  all  the  crockery  in  their  houses,  in  order,  forsooth, 
to  scare  away  the  monster.    My  brethren,  this  story  is  all  a 
fable.    God's  hand  is  over  all  His  works  to  protect  them, 

1  Agobard's  noble  protest  against  duelling,  in  his  Liber  contra  judiciwn 
Dei,  is  another  eminent  exception. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  149 

and  man  is  far  too  feeble  to  render  Him  aid.     This  appear-     CHAP. 

•         in 
ance  of  the  moon  has  a  simply  natural  cause.     For  it  is  ^  __  t  *   ^ 

evident  to  reason  that  when  the  moon,  whose  orbit  is  the 
less,  comes  between,  the  sun  cannot  pour  its  light  upon  our 
eyes,  and  this  happens  during  the  time  of  his  rising  ;  and  in 
like  manner,  the  moon,  which  is  lightened  by  the  sun, 
becomes  obscured  by  the  shadow  of  the  earth  at  full  moon 
—  that  is,  in  the  fifteenth  day  of  its  age,  when  the  sun  shines 
in  one  quarter  of  the  heavens,  the  moon  in  another.1  No 
need  is  there,  then,  to  seek  to  give  her  help.  God  has  thus 
ordered  it,  and  He  knows,  right  well,  how  to  manage  all 
that  He  has  created/ 

It  is  in  like  manner  that  we  find  his  voice  uplifted,  in 
the  succeeding  homily,  against  the  practice,  far  from  un- 
common in  his  time,  of  consulting  astrologers  and  fortune- 
tellers ;  though  here  he  can  be  regarded  simply  as  echoing 
the  utterance  of  the  Church,  and  his  discourse  is  evidence 
rather  of  the  survival  of  pagan  customs  in  the  district  than 
of  any  special  enlightenment  on  the  part  of  the  preacher. 
In  some  respects,  indeed,  Rabanus  fully  shared  the  super- 
stition of  his  age.  Holding,  probably,  that  the  end  justified  His  own 
the  means,  and  that  the  religious  feelings  of  the  laity  were 


largely  stimulated  by  such  objects  of  veneration,  he  was  in-  veneration 
defatigable  in  his  endeavours  to  obtain  the  relics  of  saints. 
Those  of  St.  Alexander,  St.  Quirinus,  St.  Caecilia,  and  many 
others,  were,  with  the  imperial  sanction,  collected  and  de- 
deposited  in  costly  shrines  at  Fulda  or  some  neighbouring 
locality.  The  enthusiasm  they  excited  was  productive  of  no 

1  *  Nam  manifests  ratio  probat,  solem  interventu  lunae,  quae  inferior 
cureu,  lumen  ad  nostros  oculos  non  posse  perfundere,  quod  sit  in  tempore 
asceusionis  ejus;  lunam  vero  similiter,  quae  a  sole  illustratur,  per  uinbraui 
terrae  obscurari  in  pleni  lunio,  lioc  est  in  quintadecima  die  aetatis  ejus, 
quando  sol  in  alia  parte  coeli  ex  alia  luna  relucet.'  Opera,  v  606.  It  is 
evident,  from  this  passage,  that  Rabanus  supposed  the  moon's  changes 
to  be  attributable  to  conditions  identical  with  those  of  an  eclipse  !  There  are 
two  homilies  (100  and  101)  delivered  by  Maximus,  bishop  of  Turin  in  the 
fifth  century,  De  Defections  Lunae  (Migne,  Ivii  334),  to  which  Rabanus' 
discourse  has  a  suspicious  resemblance.  The  editors  have  there  supposed 
that  Maximus  is  referring  to  an  eclipse  ;  but  the  context  shews  that  he 
uses  dcfectio  in  the  same  sense  as  defectus  is  used  by  Cicero  and  by  Vergil, 
i.e;  as  equivalent  to  decrescentia. 


150  RABANUS  MAURUS. 

CHAP,     small  increase   in  the  ecclesiastical  revenues,   though  the 
^      _ '    ^  wealth  thus  obtained  appears  to  have  heen  conscientiously 
devoted  to  building  new  churches,  or  adorning  and  improving 
those  already  existing. 

Points  of  Enough  has,  however,  been   adduced  to   suggest  that 

contrast      Eabanus,  though  firmly  holding  by  the  theological  traditions 
Alcuin.       which  he  inherited  from  Alcuin,  did  so  in  a  spirit  and  a 
mauner  which  were  at  once  conservative  and  progressive. 
Possessing  a  robuster  intellect,  and  less  trammelled  by  servile 
habits  of  thought,  he  not  only  enlarged  the  whole  conception 
of  monastic  and  ecclesiastical  culture,  but  also  brought  to 
bear  upon  each  subject  of  instruction  something  of  novelty 
of  treatment  and  independence  of  judgement.   In  one  respect 
— one  in  which  Alcuin  was  certainly  deficient — in  the  art, 
namely,  of  exposition,  he  appears  to  have  signally  excelled. 
His  teaching  was   characterised  by  a  quality  that   nearly 
always  accompanies  true  genius — that  of   great  clearness. 
Testimony   On  this  point  we  can  require  no  more  competent  or  satis- 
tothe  a      factory  testimony  than  Eiuhard's.      That   eminent  states- 
clearness     man,  soon  after    Charles*   death,   embraced  the   monastic 
Btruetion.     profession ;  and,  though  warmly  attached  to  Lewis,  withdrew, 
as  troubles  multiplied,  from  state  affairs  into  retirement  at 
Seligenstadt.     Thither  he  had  already  transported  the  relics 
of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Marcellinus,  and  had  changed  the  name 
of  the  town  (thus  blessed  in  its  new  treasure)  from  Mulinheiin 
to  that  which  it  now  bore.     Seligenstadt  was  not  far  distant 
from  Fulda,  and  Einhard's  only  son,  Vussin,  was  sent  to  be 
educated  under  Eabanus.     It  was  shortly  after  his  admission 
into  the  monastery  that  he  received  from  his  father  a  letter, 
still  extant,  impressing  upon  him   the  advantages   placed 
within  his  reach.      'Wherefore,  my  son,'  writes  Einhard, 
'  strive  to  follow  the  example  of  the  good,  and  on  no  account 
incur  the  displeasure  of  him  whom  I  have  exhorted  you  to 
take   for  your  model ;  but,  mindful  of  your  vow,  seek   to 
profit  by  his  teaching  with  the  utmost  degree  of  application 
that  he  may  approve.     For,  thus  instructed,  and  reducing 
what  you  have  learned  to  practice,  you  will  be  wanting  in 
nothing  that  relates  to  the  knowledge  of  life.     And,  even  as 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  15] 

I  exhorted  you  by  word  of  moutli,  be  zealous  in  study,  and     CHAP, 
fail  not  to  grasp  at  whatever  of  noble  learning  you  may  be  .  . 

able  to  gain  from  the  most  lucid  and  fertile  genius  of  this  great 
orator.' 1 

The  Church  and  posterity  have  not  been  forgetful  of  the  Tosti- 
claims  of  Rabanus  to  their  grateful  remembrance.     Eudolf  us,  church 
his  able  successor  in  the  monastery  school,  styles  him  '  a  ^.nters  <? 

,...,,,,  »   -i  •      his  merits. 

distinguished  scholar,  and  second,  as  a  poet,  to  none  of  his 
time.' 2  f  He  was  the  first/  says  Trithemius,  '  who  taught 
Germans  to  speak  the  Latin  and  Greek  tongues.'  To 
Baronius  he  appears  as  fulgentissimum  sidus ;  to  Bellarmine 
as  aeque  doctus  et  pius.3 

To  signal  ability  as  a  teacher  and  merit  as  a  writer,  His  ac- 
Rabanus  added  no  small  achievements  as  a  founder.     At  fo^er!  * 
the  time  of  his  election  as  abbat,  no  less  than  sixteen  mon- 
asteries and  nunneries,  either  founded  by  former  abbats  or 
affiliated  at  their  own  desire,  already  looked  up  to  Fulda  as 
their  parent  house.     To  these  Eabanus  added  six  more, — 
those  at  Corvey,   Solenhofen,  Celle,   Hersfeld,   Petersberg, 
and    Hirschau ;    we   may  accordingly    reckon   twenty-two 
societies  wherein  his  authority  would  be  regarded  'as  law, 
and  his  teaching  be  faithfully  preserved.     But  even  these 
numerous  foundations  represent  but  a  fraction  of  his  real 
influence.     Rightly  to  estimate  the  range  of  that  influence, 
we  must  pass  in  review  the  men  whom  he  educated,  and 
who,  scattered  over  the  different  parts  of  the  severed  empire 
as  bishops  or  teachers,  upheld  long  after  his  death  the  cause 
of  religion  and   of  letters.      The   most  eminent   of  their  His  pupils: 
number  was  undoubtedly  Lupus  Servatus,  whose  character 
and  career  will  claim  a  separate  chapter.     Another,  whose 
name  is  frequently  to  be  met  with  in  the  literature  of  these 


2 

<  a 


1  Einhard  (ed.  Teulet),  ii  45-6. 

2  ' .  .  .  sophista  et  sui  temporis  poetarum  nulli  secuudus.'    Pertz,  i  364. 
Sophistae,"  inquit  sanctus  Augustinus  (lib.  2),  appellantur,  "  Latinariun 

litterarum  eloquentissimi  auctores." '  Ducange,  s.  v.  So  in  the  epitaph  of 
John  Scotus, '  Oonditur  hoc  tumulo  sanctus  sophista  Joannes.'  Christlieb, 
p.  47.  Haureau  (Phil.  Scholast.  p.  142)  infers,  somewhat  strangely,  from  the 
language  of  Rudolfus,  that  Eabanus  was  known  as  '  le  Sophists  \ ' 

3  Proleg.  Migne,  cvii  100-26. 


152  RABANUS  MAtJRUS. 

CHAP,     times,   was   Walafrid   Strabo.     His   earlier   education   was 

, ^1 ,  gained  at  the  monastery  of  Reichenau  on  the  shores  of  lake 

Walafrid     Constance,  where,  as  at  the  sister  foundation  of  St.  Gall,  the 
0 '       teaching  of  Columban  and  the  Irish  school  was  still  handed 
down  with  considerable  success.     From  Reichenau  Walafrid 
was  sent  to  receive  further  instruction  at  Fulda — a  fact  that 
would  lead  us  to  infer,  either  that  the  rivalry  between  the 
Celtic  and  the  Latin  theologians  did  not  altogether  prevent 
friendly  intercourse,   or  that  the   reputation  of  Rabanus' 
teaching  was  sufficiently  great  to  overcome  such  jealousies. 
Walafrid  returned  after  a  time  to  Reichenau,  and  in  the 
year  842  was  elected  abbat.     But  though  he  had  learned 
much  at  Fulda,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  acquired  Rabanus' 
art  as  an  administrator;  and  while  learning  flourished  at 
Reichenau  the  affairs  of  the  monastery  were  suffered  to  fall 
into  irremediable  confusion.     The  verses  are  still  extant  in 
which  Walafrid  bewails  to  his  former  teacher  the  state  of 
the  society,  and  begs  of  him  the  gift  of  a  pair  of  shoes.1 
Walafrid,  not  improbably,  inherited  from  Rabanus  something 
of  the  latter's  taste  and  skill  in  versification,  for  he  was  dis- 
tinguished as  a  poet  in  his  day ;  but  his  name  was  chiefly 
known  to  the  Middle  Ages  as  that  of  the  author  of  the 
widely  popular   Glossa  Ordinaria,  a   series   of  biblical  ex- 
positions founded  upon   the  lessons  of  his  instructor  at 
Fulda. 
otfried  of         To  the  influence  of  Rabanus  may  perhaps  also  be  referred 

\\eissen-     -j-ne  far  letter  known  efforts  of  the  muse  of  Otfried,  a  mem- 
berg  ; 

ber  of  the  monastery  of  Weissenberg  in  Elsass,  and  the 

author  of  D&r  Krist.  The  pious  monk  had  often  listened  to 
the  strains  of  the  strolling  singers  of  his  native  country,  and 
been  scandalised  at  their  coarseness ;  he  aspired  accordingly 
to  direct  the  characteristic  talent  of  his  countrymen  into 
happier  channels.  Hence  his  well-known  production — a 
metrical  harmony  of  the  Gospels  in  the  old  High  German 
dialect,  the  prototype  of  the  lyric  in  Teutonic  literature. 
Budolfua.  More  famous  in  his  day  than  perhaps  any  of  the  fore- 
going was  Rabanus'  pupil  and  successor  as  instructor  of 

1  Opera,  M'I  231, 


153 

the  monastery  school,  the  historian  Rudolfus,  the  continu-  CHAP. 
ator  of  the  Annales  Fuldenses  from  the  point  where  Einhard 
dropped  the  pen — a  preacher  whose  oratory  was  the  special  de- 
light of  Lewis  the  Pious — a  scholar  notable  for  his  knowledge 
of  Tacitus  (probably  from  some  manuscript  that  subsequently 
disappeared)  in  an  age  when  that  writer  was  otherwise  un- 
known. 

Names  of  minor  note  crowd  on  the  attention  of  the  stu- 
dent, and  almost  justify  the  assertion  of  one  of  Rabanus* 
biographers,  that  wherever,  be  it  in  peace  or  in  war,  in  the 
Church  or  in  State,  a  prominent  actor  appears  at  this  period, 
we  may  almost  predict  beforehand  that  he  will  prove  to  have 
been   a  scholar  of  this  great   teacher.1     Among  them  we 
may  note  Liutpert,  abbat  of  the  newly  founded  society  at  Liutpert, 
Corvey,  to  whom  that  society  was  indebted  for  much  of  its  ^r^mat* 
subsequent  reputation — Hartmuat,  who  at  St.  Gall  restored  hard, 
and  long  maintained  the  discipline  which  had  there  fallen  Ennddus. 
into  decay — Meginhard,  who,  with  strong  Teutonic  sympa- 
thies and  a  marked  increase  of  historic  power,  carried  on 
the  work  of  Einhard  and  Rudolf  us — Probus,  whose  saintly 
virtues  made  Fulda  yet  more  illustrious,2  a  gentle  scholar 
who  pleaded  the  claims  of  Cicero  and  Vergil  to  rank  among 
the  elect — Ermoldus,  author    of  the  lives  of  St.  Sola  and 
St.  Hariolf. 

While   the  services  of  Rabanus  to  his  generation  were  Difficulties 
thus  eminent  and  indisputable,  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the°theom 
anxiety  to  adorn  a  later  movement  with  the  sanction  of  a  that  Ea- 
great  name  should  have  led  certain  writers  to  claim  for  him  J^he 
a  distinction   at  variance  with  his  entire  reputation — the  author  of 

.  •      the  gloss 

parentage  of  the  nominalistic  controversy.     It  was  in  his  discovered 
researches  among  the  MSS.  of  Abelard  and  his   disciples,  b?  Cou6in' 
preserved  in  the  Imperial  Library  in  Paris,  that  the  late 
M.    Cousin  discovered  a  commentary  on   Boethius,  which, 
on  the  doubtful  authority  of  a  marginal  gloss^  he  ventured 

1  Spongier,  p.  iv. 

8  ' .  .  .  cujus  casta  conversatio  et  doctrinae  sanctae  studium  Mogontiuam 
illustravit  ecclesiam.'    Annal.  Fvtd.  aiin.  860,  Pertz,  i  373. 


154  RABANUS  MAURUa 

CHAP,     to  attribute  to  Rabanus.1     It  is  right  to  add  that  his  conclu- 

III          • 
v_    i '   ^  sion  has  received  the  support  of  M.  Haureau.     According  to 

this  assumption,  Rabanus,  in  addition  to  his  other  distin- 
guished claims,  appears  as  the  author  of  a  profound  and 
able  refutation  of  the  reality  of  Universals.     Unfortunately, 
however,  two  material  facts,  since  pointed  out  by  Kaulich 
and  Prantl,  seem  fatal  to  such  an  hypothesis.      Rabanus 
was  already  sixty-seven  years  of  age  when,  in  844,  he  com- 
posed his  treatise  De  Universe,  in  which,  as  we  have  before 
stated,2  he  follows  Alcuin  in  dividing  logic  into  dialectic  and 
rhetoric ;  but  in  the  manuscript  in  question  logic  is  sub- 
divided into  grammar,   rhetoric,  and  dialectic — a  far  from 
unimportant  difference  and  one  which  Prantl  does  not  hesi- 
tate to  refer  to  the  influence  of  the  views  put  forth  by  John 
Scotus  respecting  the  relation  of  grammar  and  rhetoric  to 
dialectic.3    Again,  it  is  evident  that  the  commentary  is  de- 
signed as  a  reply  to  certain  realistic  doctrines,  and,  apart 
from  the  controversy  raised  by  John  Scotus,  we  have  no 
evidence  that  this  famous  controversy  was  agitated  in  Frank- 
land  before  the  second  half  of  the  ninth  century.     But  the 
arrival  of  John  in  Frankland  belongs  to  the  years  840-6, 
during  which  time  Rabanus,  as  we  shall  shortly  see,  was 
leading  a  life  of  religious  seclusion,  and  tranquilly  compos- 
ing his  De  Universe,  in  perfect  ignorance,  it  may  be  presumed, 
of  that  new  conception  of  logic  which  was  being  expounded 
at  the  court  of  Charles  the  Bald.     It  seems  accordingly  in 
the  highest  degree  improbable  that  either  at  this  period  or 
in  the  years  of  his  extreme  old  age,  when  "busied  with  the 
duties  of  his  episcopate  and  the  refutation  of  Gotteschalk, 
he  should  have  permitted  himself  to  become  involved  in  a 
sharp  philosophical  controversy,  have  reconsidered  his  classi- 
fication of  the  arts  and  sciences,  and  composed  a  treatise 
altogether  dissimilar  to  anything  to  be  found  in  his  acknow- 
ledged writings.4     The  commentary  in  question  was  probably 

1  An  account  of  tliia  gloss  will  be  found  in  the  author's  History  of  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  pp.  50-4. 

2  See  supra,  p.  87. 

s  Gesch.  d.  Loyik,  ii  88. 

4  '  Allerdings  lasst  sich  nicht  direct  beweisen,  dass  Hrabanus  denselben 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA. 

the  work  of  a  disciple  or  of  some  writer  who  had  received  CHAP. 
his  education  at  Fulda. 

During  the  unhappy  struggle  which  preceded  the  disso-  His  sym- 

lution  of  the  empire,  Eabanus  espoused  the  cause  of  the  PatlV.e^  •» 

T        ......  a  pohti- 

emperor  against  the  sons.     In  this  policy  he  was  opposed  to  clan. 
Otgar,   the  archbishop,  a  zealous  and   ambitious  partisan, 
with   aims  very   different  from   those  of  the  peace-loving 
abbat,   intent  solely  on  the  interests  of  religion  and  the 
Church.     While  Otgar  urged  on  the  war,  Eabanus  quoted  His  loyalty 
examples  from   Scripture   calculated   to   recall  the  unfilial  ^L^is 

*         .  the  Pious 

princes  and  disloyal  nobility  to  their  duty  and  allegiance ;  and 
and  while  the  former,  under  the  guise  of  zeal  for  the  Church's  Lothair' 
laws,  took  an  active  part  in  the  cruel  deposition  of  Lewis 
at  Soissons,  the  other  openly  maintained  the  invalidity  of 
the  proceedings.     After  the  emperor's  death,  Eabanus  at- 
tached himself  to  the  party  of  Lothair,  and  his  loyalty  to 
that  monarch  remained  unshaken.     The  results  that  followed 
upon  the  battle  of  Fontenay  were,  however,  felt  by  him  as  a 
severe  blow ;  and,  having  resigned  his  abbatship,  he  retired,  He  retires 
as  Baugulfus  had  done  before  him,  into  religious  seclusion.1  t°  Peters- 
He  chose  for  his  retreat  the  cell  at  Petersberg,  and  there, 
to  quote  the  expression  of  Eudolf  us,  devoted  himself  to  the 
study  of '  heavenly  philosophy,' 2 — that  is,  in  more  prosaic  Ian-  His 
guage,   there   compiled   his   De   Univ&rso   (a  feeble  though 
laborious  reproduction,  with  some  additions,  of  the  Ency-  retirement. 
clopaedia   of  Isidorus) ;   wrote   also,  at  the  request  of  the 
emperor  Lothair,  his  commentary  on  Ezekiel ; 3  and  further, 
at  the  request  of  Lewis  the  German,  an  exposition  of  the 
'  allegorical '  sense  of  the  hymns  used  in  the  services  of  the 
Church.     The  relations  which  he  appears  to  have  maintained, 

umuoglich  verfasst  haben  konne,  aber  als  selir  unwahrseheinlich  miissen  wir 
es  immerhin  bezeichuen.'  Ibid.  '  Der  Gegensatz  von  Noniinalisten  und 
Ilealisten  beginnt  sich  zwar  im  ucuuten  Jahrhundert  zu  entwickeln,  aber  ihn 
bis  auf  Rabauus  au?zudehnen  erscheiut  uns  unrecbtfertigt.'  Kaulicb,  Gesch. 
d.Schol.' Phil,  i  62-3. 

1  See  Diimmler,  pp.  171,  301. 

8  Kudolfus,  De  Reliquiis,  p.  249 :  * .  .  .  ibi  manens  ac  deo  semens 
caelesti  philosophiae  vacabat '  (quoted  by  Diimmler,  p.  302). 

'"  Opera,  iv  19C.  It  is  to  be  noted  tbat  Itabanus  pays  a  high  tribute  to 
the  '  aviditus  multa  scieudi  et  copioie  investijandi '  exhibited  by  Lothair. 


156 


EADANUS  MAURUS, 


CHAP. 
III. 

His  rela- 
tions to 
Lothair 
and  Lewis 
the  Ger- 
man. 


He  is 

elected 
arch- 
bishop of 

Maiutz. 


Influence 
of  the  epis- 
copal order 
at  this 
period. 


at  pne  and  the  same  time,  with  Lothair  and  Lewis  the 
German  suggest  that  his  reputation  was  such  as  almost  to 
render  him  superior  to  mere  political  considerations.  His 
allegiance,  as  a  subject,  was  given  to  the  new  emperor,  for 
whom,  a  few  years  later,  we  find  him  compiling  a  collection 
of  homilies ;  but  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  his  respect 
and  regard  for  Lewis  must  have  been  of  a  far  more  genuine 
character.  During  his  retirement,  his  acquaintance  with  the 
latter  ripened  into  permanent  friendship,  and  his  testimony 
to  this  prince's  high  character  is  perhaps  the  least  open  to 
suspicion  of  all  the  tributes  that  have  survived  to  the  moral 
virtues  of  the  best  of  the  sons  of  Lewis  the  Pious. 

On  the  death  of  Otgar,  the  unanimous  voice  of  the 
Church,  the  nobility,  and  the  people  elected  Rabanus  to  fill 
the  splendid  see  of  Maintz.  The  sanction  of  Lewis  the 
German,  in  whose  realm  the  city  had  been  included  in  the 
division  agreed  upon  at  Verdun,  was  gladly  given  ;  Rabanus 
alone  hesitated.  It  was  indeed  no  slight  responsibility  to 
assume,  at  the  age  of  seventy-one,  an  oflice  which  involved 
the  supervision  of  the  spiritual  interests  of  all  Germany,, 
the  diocese  of  Cologne  alone  excepted.  Eventually,  however,, 
he  acceded  to  the  wish  of  the  electors,  and  for  nine  years, 
until  his  death  in  856,  discharged  the  duties  of  this  onerous 
dignity.  Of  one  of  his  earliest  measures  in  this  capacity — 
the  part  which  he  took  in  the  condemnation  of  the  ultra- 
predestinarian  views  of  his  former  disciple  Gotteschalk — 
we  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  in  another  chapter. 

Amid  the  troubles  and  disorganisation  of  these  times, 
Eabanus,  in  common  with  the  other  members  of  the  episco- 
pate, appears  as  the  upholder  of  law  and  order,  when  the 
civil  power  was  well-nigh  helpless.  Perhaps  at  no  period 
in  the  annals  of  Western  Europe  are  the  bishops  of 
the  Church  to  be  found  exercising  a  more  remarkable  or 
more  considerable  influence.1  Interwoven  with  the  three 
great  movements  that  characterise  the  age — the  decay  of 

1  Observe  the  language  of  Charles  the  Bald's  own  minister  of  state : — 
'  Verumtamen  solito  more  ad  episcopos  sacerdotesque  rem  referunt,  ut  quo- 
cumque  divina  auctoritas  id  vertere  vellet  nutu  ipsius,  libenti  animo  praesto 
adessent.'  Nithardus,  iv  3 ;  Pertz,  ii  669. 


THE  SCHOOL  AT  FULDA.  157 

the  royal  power,  the  rise  of  feudalism,  and  the  encroach-     CHAP, 
ments  of  the  papacy — their  action  is  nearly  always  appre-  .    nL  _. 
ciable  and  often  decisive  of  the  immediate  result.     Theodul- 
fus,  Agobard,  Hincmar,  are  men  whose  power  in  guiding 
contemporary  opinion   and   the   events   of   their   day   can 
scarcely  be  matched  by  that  of  any  three  laymen  of  the 
time;    while   Rabanus,   working  through  the  hearts   and 
minds  of  his  long  array  of  illustrious  disciples,  surpasses  the 
former  two  and  yields  to  Hincmar  alone. 


LUPUS  SERVATUa 


CHAPTEK  IV. 


CHAP. 
IV. 


Lupus  and 
Alcuin  con- 
trasted. 


His  early 
education. 


His  re- 
moval to 
Fulda  and 
education 


LUPUS  SEEVATUS  :   OE,  THE  CLASSICS   IN   THE   NINTH  CENTUET. 

THE  varied  and  distinguished  activity  of  Kabanus'  different 
disciples  in  after  life  might  alone  serve  to  suggest  that  the 
influences  at  Fulda  were  of  a  far  more  inspiring  character 
than  those  of  Tours.  To  one  whom  he  taught,  we  cannot 
doubt  that  his  tolerant  views  respecting  classical  literature 
afforded  the  opportunity  for  cultivating  a  taste  which  deve- 
loped into  a  lifelong  passion.  In  Lupus  Servatus — for  it  is  of 
him  that  we  speak — we  have  the  strongest  contrast  to  Alcuin 
— the  one,  lapt  in  wealth  and  security,  intent  mainly  on  en- 
forcing monastic  discipline,  and  narrowing  the  limits  of 
learning;  the  other,  amid  penury,  privation  and  the  oft- 
recurring  demands  of  military  service,  and  the  alarms  of 
invasion,  attracted,  as  by  a  spell,  to  the  literature  which 
Alcuin  shunned,  and  exhibiting  an  erudition  and  enthusiasm 
not  unworthy  of  the  scholars  of  the  Renaissance. 

Lupus  was  born  in  the  diocese  of  Sens,  early  in  the  ninth 
century,  of  a  noble  family,  eminent  for  its  devotion  both  to 
the  cause  of  religion  and  to  that  of  letters.1  He  was  first 
sent  to  be  educated  at  Ferrieres,  where,  since  Alcuin's  death, 
the  abbatship  had  passed  from  Sigulfus  to  Adelbert,  and 
from  Adelbert  to  Aldricus.  At  Ferri&res  he  received  the 
usual  instruction  in  the  subjects  of  the  trivium  and  quad/ri- 
vium,  and  from  thence,  in  the  year  830,  was  sent  on  by 
Aldricus  (who  had,  in  the  meantime,  been  raised  to  the 
archbishopric  of  Sens)  to  study  theology  under  Eabanus  at 
Fulda.  We  have  already  seen  that,  about  this  time,  Ein- 
hard's  son,  Vussin,  was  also  receiving  his  education  there. 

'  Nicholas,  Etude  sur  lea  lettre*  de  Servat-Loup.  Clermont-Ferrand,  1861. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY.  159 

Einhard  Often  came  over  from  Seligenstadt  to  see  his  son,     CHAP, 
and  his  attention  was  attracted  to  Lupus  as  a  student  of   ^_  ™'.^ 
more  than  ordinary  promise.     He  became  his  literary  adviser  under 
and  instructor,  and,  during  a  six  years'  residence  at  Fulda,  ^ Kn- 
the  young   monk  enjoyed  the  twofold  advantage  of  being  hard, 
taught  by  the  ablest  scholar  and  the  most  profound  theo- 
logian of  the  time.     From  Fulda  he  returned  to  Ferrieres, 
where  he  was  at  once  appointed  to  the  office  of  instructor  in 
grammar  and  rhetoric. 

For  four  years  Lupus  continued  to  discharge  the  duties  His  re- 
of  his  post  with  little  interruption  from  events  without,  when  ^?rn  *° 
the  death  of  Lewis  the  Pious  and  the  treaty  of  Verdun  and  promo- 
brought  about  fresh  changes.  The  double  form  of  the  cele- 
brated  oath  of  Strassburg,  whereby  Lewis  and  Charles,  with 
their  armies,  bound  themselves  to  mutual  fidelity,  typifies 
the  influence  at  work  in  the  dismembered  empire.  Modern 
France  appears,  dimly  emerging  from,  the  confusion,  sepa- 
rated for  ever  from  the  purely  Teutonic  races,  while  diverse 
rule  and  opposed  interests  begin  to  call  into  existence  new 
national  hostilities.  Rabanus,  as  we  have  before  noted, 
deeply  moved  by  the  fate  which  transferred  the  temporal 
allegiance  of  Fulda  to  one  whom  he  could  not  regard  as  his 
rightful  lord,  retired  from  his  abbatship,  and  his  friend 
Hatto,  who  had  been  his  fellow-student  at  Tours,  was  elected 
his  successor.  A  like  change  had  already  taken  place  at 
Ferrieres.  Odo,  who  had  succeeded  Aldricus  on  the  latter's 
promotion  to  the  archbishopric  of  Sens,  had  shewn  himself  a 
warm  and  apparently  somewhat  indiscreet  partisan  of  Lothair. 
He  was  consequently  deposed  by  Charles  the  Bald,  who  ap- 
pointed Lupus  in  his  place.  Envy  did  not  fail  to  attribute 
to  the  new  abbat  a  share  in  his  predecessor's  disgrace ;  but 
from  this  imputation  he  would  seem  to  have  satisfactorily 
vindicated  himself  in  a  letter  which  we  still  possess.1  The 
resignation  of  Rabanus,  it  will  thus  be  seen,  coincided  very 
nearly  with  Lupus'  election ;  and  we  find  the  latter  writing 
on  the  occasion  to  his -preceptor,  and  intimating  that  he 
would  gladly  have  profited  by  his  advice  with  respect  to  his 
1  Epist.  21 ;  Migne,  cxix  470-2. 


360    '  LUPUS  SERVATUS. 

CHAP,  new  duties,  but  lie  hears  that  he  is  now  devoted  solely  to 
-  _  ^1  —  -  religious  avocations.1  It  is  accordingly  evident  that,  though 
Inter-  Kabanus  and  his  disciple  differed  in  their  political  sympathies, 
friendship  suffered  no  diminution;  and  it  may  be  noted 


asticcom-    ag  one  of  the  brighter  features  of-  the  monastic  life  of  this 

inanities  at  . 

this  period,  period,  that  communities  bound  by  widely  different  ties  and 
interests  still  often  maintained  their  friendly  intercourse 
unbroken.  It  is  but  a  few  years  later,  at  the  very  time  that 
national  hostility  towards  Charles  was  finding  such  unmis- 
takeable  expression  at  Fulda  at  the  hand  of  Rudolfus  in  the 
Annales,  that  Lupus,  whose  loyalty  to  his  monarch  admits  of 
no  question,  is  to  be  found  writing  to  Hatto,  the  abbat,  in 
terms  which  imply  continued  and  habitual  interchange  of 
good  offices.2 

Charles  the  With  the  accession  of  Charles  the  Bald,  the  influences 
that  affected  learning  had  undergone  a  further  modification. 
In  his  sympathies  towards  men  of  letters,  the  new  monarch 
resembled  his  grandfather  rather  than  his  saintly  sire.  His 
fine  lofty  forehead,  destitute  of  the  flowing  locks  which 
usually  adorned  the  IVankish  noble,  bespoke  intellectual 
powers  of  no  common  order.  Himself  an  acute  metaphysical 

His  lite-  theologian,  he  delighted  to  pitt  opponent  against  respondent 
over  some  knotty  quaestio.  His  metrical  compositions  ob- 
tained and  deserved  a  place  in  the  Gallican  liturgies.  He 
fostered  literature  with  a  care  to  which  we  are  indebted  for 
more  than  one  important  chronicle  of  contemporary  history, 
while  his  court  was  the  resort  of  men  of  letters  of  every 
school.  His  enemies,  who  could  not  deny  his  mental  ability, 
represented  him  as  unfit  for  action  and  cowardly  in  war  —  a 
description  scarcely  borne  out  by  the  facts  of  his  career. 

Difficulties         Under  happier  circumstances,  we  can  hardly  doubt  that 

tended  his  Charles  would  have  rendered  still  more  enduring  services 
to  letters,  but  his  lot  was  cast  in  evil  days.  Aquitaine  rose 
in  insurrection,  while  on  the  coasts  a  yet  more  formidable 

1  '  Gaeterum  audivi  eareinam  administrationis  vestrae  vos  deposuisse  et 
rebus  divinis  solummodo  nunc  esse  intentos,  Hattoni  vero  nostro  curam 
sudoris  plenam  reliquisse.'  Epist,  40. 

*  Epist.  86. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY. 

danger  appeared.     The  sagacity  of  Charles  the  Great  had 
discerned  the  gathering  storm  in  the  North,  but  so  long  as 
he  lived  the  black  cloud  was  still  in  the  remote  horizon. 
The  Danish  sails  hovered  off  the  Frankish  coast,  but  the 
pirate  descended  not,  held  back,  as  it  would  seem,  by  the 
glamour  of  that  mighty  name.     In  the  reign  of  Lewis,  how-  The  inva- 
ever,  Friesland  was  more  than  once  exposed  to  their  ravages ;  Northmen! 
while  the  first  year  of  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Bald  saw 
Rouen  plundered  and  burnt,  and  the  monasteries  along  the 
valley  of  the   Seine   deserted  or  rifled  of   their  treasure.1 
Rarely  from  that  time  was  the   kingdom   free  from  their 
actual  presence  or  the  anticipation  of  their  approach.     Over 
the  lands   that  lay  between   the   Rhine   and  the    Scheldt, 
between  the  Scheldt  and  the  Loire,  between  the  Loire  and 
the  Garonne,  the  tide  of  invasion  poured  in  countless  suc- 
cessive waves.   The  monasteries,  from  sheer  necessity,  became 
the  centres  of  organised  resistance.    From  peaceful  mansions 
surrounded  by  smiling  gardens,  they  gradually  assumed  the 
aspect  of  inhospitable  fortresses  begirt  by  moats  and  pali- 
sades.    The  chronicles  of  all  the  foundations  in  the  diocese 
of  Paris,  those  of  the  societies  at  Nantes  and  Fontenelle  (of 
•which  a  few  fragments  still  exist),  the  entire  collection  at 
Jumieges,  irrevocably  disappeared  from  the  possession  of  the 
historian,  and  their  loss  still  baffles  every  attempt  to  con- 
struct a  continuous  and  connected  narrative  of  this  period.2 

Such  were  the  times  that  embrace  the  career  of  Lupus  Lupus  in 
Servatus.     He  twice  saw  Paris  besieged  and  taken — once  hls  car®er 

QU     J^     SOI 

within  two  years  of  his  election  to  the  abbatship,  and  again  dier. 
a  few  years  before  his  death.      Ferrieres  was  among  the 
monasteries  bound  to  furnish  men  and  money  to  the  state,3 
and  Lupus  was  himself  compelled  to  bear  arms  under  Charles. 
It  was  in  vain  that  he  besought   Hincinar  to   obtain  his 

1  ' .  .  .  omnia  niouasteria  seu  quaecumque  loca  flumini  Sequanae 
adhaerentia  aut  depopulati  sunt,  aut  luultis  acceptis  pecuniis  tenita  relin- 
quunt.'  Pertz,  i  437. 

8  Palgrave,i421. 

s  The  monastery  is  included  among  those  '  quae  dona  et  militiara  faoere 
debent,'  in  the  Constitutio  de  Servitio  Monachorum  of  817.  Pertz  Leqa  \ 
223. 

M 


162 


LUPUS  SERVATUS. 


CHAP. 
IV. 


Confisca- 
tions of 
monastic 
lands  by 
the  no- 
bility. 


St.  Jndoc 
taken  from 
I'erri&res. 


exemption  from  services  for  which  he  was  in  no  way  qualified, 
being,  as  he  urged,  ignorant  of  the  art  of  fence,  and  an  un- 
skilful rider.  In  the  year  844  he  was  forced  to  take  part  in 
the  expedition  against  the  rebels  of  Aquitaine,  and  at  the 
battle  of  Angouleine  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.  It 
was  only  through  the  intervention  of  Turpio,  count  of  An- 
goule'me,  that,  after  a  month's  captivity,  he  was  restored  to 
the  society  at  Ferrieres.  To  that  society  his  services  as  an 
administrator  were  of  incalculable  benefit;  nor  shall  we 
easily  find,  in  mediaeval  times,  a  better  example  of  the  extent 
to  which  the  scholar's  life  might  be  made  compatible  with 
diplomatic  service  to  the  state,  and  fidelity  to  monastic 
interests  be  reconciled  with  a  lively  sympathy  in  the  progress 
of  events  without. 

The  troubles  arising  from  invasion  and  civil  war  were  not 
the  only  sources  of  disquiet  with  the  monasteries  at  this 
time.  The  nobles,  availing  themselves  of  the  weakness  of 
the  supreme  power,  began  to  assert  feudal  claims,  and  the 
confiscating  policy  of  Charles  Martel  was  revived.  The 
more  powerful  lords  disdained  all  subterfuge,  and  seized  the 
monastic  lands  on  no  other  plea  than  that  of  the  stronger 
arm.  Others  forged  title-deeds  in  their  own  favour,  or  in- 
trigued at  court  to  gain  the  royal  sanction  for  their  pre- 
tended rights.  In  the  correspondence  of  Lupus  we  can 
follow  the  details  of  the  contest  which  he  was  thus  compelled 
to  wage  in  defence  of  his  own  monastery.  Foremost  among 
the  grievances  under  which  the  community  laboured  was 
the  alienation  of  the  revenues  derived  from  the  cell  of  St. 
Judoc,  near  Etaples.1  Alcuin's  cell  had  been  bestowed  on  the 
monastery  by  Lewis  the  Pious,  at  the  request  of  the  empress 
Judith ;  it  was  now  given  by  Charles,  shortly  after  his  ac- 
cession, to  count  Odulf,  a  favourite  of  queen  Irmintrude. 
The  repeated  representations  of  the  monks  of  Ferrieres  had 
at  last  convinced  the  monarch  of  the  injustice  of  his  act,  but 
could  gain  from  him  only  a  conditional  promise  of  restitution. 
It  is  at  this  juncture  that  we  find  Lupus,  emboldened  by  the 
sufferings  and  destitution  of  his  monastery,  submitting  to 
1  See  supra,  p.  134. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY.  1^3 

the  king  the  following  statement  of  the  condition  of  affairs     CHAP, 
at  Ferrieres  : —  „ ^ , 

'For  three  years/  he  says,  'the  servants  of  God,  whose  Kemon- 
prayers  are  ever  offered  up  on  your  Majesty's  behalf,  have  »tranc9  of 
ceased  to  receive  the  garments  formerly  distributed  among  Charles. 
them,  according  to  custom ;  those  which  they  are  obliged  to 
wear  being  now  worn  out  and  tattered.  They  live  on  vege- 
tables, which  they  are  compelled  to  purchase,  and  it  is  rarely 
that  they  eat  fish  or  cheese.  Their  servants,  also,  fail  to 
receive  the  garments  to  which  they  are  entitled,  all  these 
things  having  been  formerly  supplied  by  the  cell  of  St.  Judoc. 
There,  too,  the  care  formerly  shewn  for  travellers  from 
beyond  the  seas,  and  for  the  poor,  is  at  an  end :  the  service 
of  God  is  neglected.  I  pray  that  He  may  not  visit  these 
offences  on  you !  Besides  the  general  distress  and  the 
cares  belonging  to  my  office,  I  find  myself  overwhelmed 
with  shame ;  for  in  truth,  whatever  former  abbats  have 
gained  for  the  support  of  our  community,  that  I  find  myself 
losing,  as  though  I  were  the  most  unworthy  and  useless  of 
all.  I  am  supported  solely  by  the  hope  of  seeing  that  which 
has  been  lost  restored ;  for  God  is  my  witness,  my  conduct 
towards  your  Majesty  has  not  been  such  as  to  merit  this  loss ; 
and,  moreover,  you  have  made  me  a  promise  which  you 
cannot  fail  to  keep.' ! 

At  the  Council  of  Thionville,  in  the  year  844,  the  whole  ^"g™g* 

•  of  the 

question  with  respect  to   such   confiscations   was   strongly  Council  of 
pressed  upon  the  attention  of  the  three  princes   (Lot-hair,  Thlonville- 
Lewis,  and  Charles)   by  the  assembled  bishops,  who  pro- 
tested against  the  spoliation  of  the  monasteries  as  '  contrary 
to  all  authority  and  reason  and  to  the  practice  of  preceding 
kings,'  and  respectfully  urged  that  '  the  things  which a  were . 

1  Epist.  71.    Compare  the  language  of  the  Council  of  Verneuil  in  the 
same  3rear, — '  in  locis  sanctis,  hoc  est  monasteriis,  alios  studio,  nonnullos 
desidia,   mtdtos  necessitate  victus  et  vestimenti,  a  sua  professione  deviare 
cotnperimus.'    Pertz,  Legg.  i  384.    The  resolutions  of  this  council  were  drawn 
up  by  Lupus.    See  Epist.  42. 

2  Sacrum  quoque  monasticum  ordinem  .  .  .  et  quaedam  etiam  loca 
specialius  venerabilia,  contra  omnem  auctoritatem  et  rationem,  ac  patrum 
vestvorum  sou  regum  praecedentium  consuetudinem,  laicorum  curae    efc 

M  2 


LUPUS  SERVATUS. 

CHAP.     Caesar's  should  be  given  to  Caesar,'  —  Caesar,  of  course,  typi- 
_  fying  the   monastic   interest.     Charles,  indeed,  if  we  may 

credit  the  testimony  of  Prudentius  of  Troyes,  at  nearly  the 
same  time,  was  really  ecclesiae  strenuissimus  cuttor  ;  l  but  he 
shrank  from  a  collision  with  the  growing  power  of  his  no- 
bility, and  in  the  case  of  Ferrieres  restitution  was  still  de- 
layed. 

Services  of  During  all  this  time,  Lupus  is  frequently  to  be  found  in 
thePState  attendance  at  court.  His  skilful  pen  and  rare  attainments 
enabled  him  to  render  important  services  when  questions 
of  ecclesiastical  or  state  policy  were  in  course  of  agitation-. 
In  847  we  find  him  accompanying  Charles  to  Marsna,  for 
the  purpose  of  assisting  in  the  settlement  of  terms  of  peace 
with  Lothair  and  Lewis.  In  849  he  appears  representing 
Charles,  in  connexion  with  certain  Church  matters,  at  Rome  ; 
and  again,  in  the  same  year,  at  Bourges,  as  his  deputy  in 
the  conference  held  in  connexion  with  the  heresy  of  Gottes- 
chalk.  In  the  year  858  he  is  employed  to  negotiate  terms 
with  Lewis  the  German.2 

Tardiness          That  so  influential  an  advocate  should  have  been  unable 
in  tfce  f      *°   °btain   simple   justice   for   his   own   monastery,    shews 
restitution,  the  strength  of  the  opposing  element.     The  circumstances 
remind   us,   by   a  singularly  close  resemblance,   of  bishop 
Fisher,  pleading  at  the  court  of  Henry  vm  on  behalf  of  the 
despoiled   college  of  St.  John   at   Cambridge.     Nearly  six 
years  appear  to  have  passed  away  before  we  find  the  abbat 
of  Ferrieres  writing  to  archbishop  Wigmund  at  York,  and 
announcing  that  the  cell  of  St.  Judoc  had  been  restored  to 
its  rightful  owners.3 
His  ser-  ^ne  correspondence  of  Lupus  with  the  leaders  of  the 


•rices  to  the  Church  in  his  day  proves  the  esteem  in  which  his  attain- 
ments were  held.  It  is  scarcely  an  exaggeration,  when 
Nicholas  describes  him  as  one  who  for  two-and-twenty 

potestati  in  inaxiino  ;  vestro  periculo  et  illorum  perditione  .  .  .  vos  com- 
misisse  dolemus.'  Pertz,  Legg.  i  881. 

1  Annales,  Pertz,  i  448. 

9  Nicholas,  pp.  14-15. 

3  *  Quae  tandem  aliquando  nolris  reddita  eat'  (Migne,  cxix  526).  This 
waa  in  the  year  847. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY.  165 

years  was  the  *  interprets  oblig£  de  lenrs  decisions  *  in  the 
synods  and  councils.     His  last  appearance  in  this  capacity 
belongs  to  the  year  862,  when  he  drew  up  the  sentence  pro- 
nounced at  the  Synod  of  Pistes  against  Robert,  archbishop  Probable 
of  .Mans,  and  his  death  probably  took  place  about  the  same  death*1"" 
time. 

The  foregoing  facts  in  his  career  have,  it  will  be  admitted, 
no  small  relevancy  to  an  enquiry  into  the  conditions  under 
which  education  in  Frankland  was  carried  on  at  this  period, 
but  their  main  value  is  in  the  strong  relief  in  which  they 
bring  out  a  devotion  to  letters,  and  more  especially  to 
classical  literature,  as  intense  and  as  disinterested  as  that  of 
Petrarch,  Casaubou,  or  Bentley. 

In  the  midst  of  the  cares  and  duties  inseparable  from  a 
faithful  discharge  of  a  laborious  office — amid  the  unceasing 
dread  of  barbaric  invasion,  and  even  in  the  panic  that  at- 
tended its  actual  occurrence — surrounded  by  a  constant 
scene  of  suffering  and  oppression — Lupus  Servatus  still 
found  the  leisure  to  pore  over  the  page  of  Cicero  and  Quinti- 
lian,  of  Terence  and  Vergil,  with  an  ardour  and  concentra- 
tion worthy  of  the  most  unruffled  seclusion.  He  loved  let- 
ters, by  his  own  confession,  not  for  the  fame  they  might 
bring,  but  for  the  tranquil  pleasures  they  conferred  and 
the  loftier  moral  tone  they  were  calculated  to  awaken  in  the  His  devo- 
individual.1  Realising  more  fully  than  any  of  his  contem-  letters' and 
poraries  the  Aristotelian  notion,  that  the  end  of  all  acquire-  exalted 
ment  is  not  so  much  a  jv&a-is  as  a  7r/oa£«,  he  found  in  the 
pursuit  of  knowledge  the  surest  distraction  from  worldly  use- 
calamities  and  the  best  alleviation  of  trial. 

His  most  frequent  topic  of  complaint  is  not  the  troubles 
of  the  times  or  even  those  of  his  own  monastery,  but  the 
paucity  and  costliness  of  books.  And  here,  doubtless,  he  is 
well  entitled  to  the  sympathy  of  every  student,  although  it 
is  difficult  altogether  to  dismiss  the  impression  that  the  poor 
abbat  of  Ferrieres  in  his  untiring  and  tantalising  search 

1  'Etenim  plerique  exea  cultumsermonisquaeriinus:  etpaucosadinodum 
reperias  qui  ex  ea  morum  probitatem,  quod  longe  conducibilius  est,  proponant 
addiscere.'  Epiet.  35.  Migne,  cxix  502. 


166 


LUPUS   SERVATUS. 


CHAP, 


His  liter- 
arj  corre- 


Ho  de- 

plnr.es  the 
spirit  in 

•which 


by  the 


His  per- 


tearch  for 


after  different  authors,  was  often  far  happier  than  many  a 
modern  scholar  surrounded  by  ease  and  plenty  and  a  surfeit 
of  vast  libraries,  and  sadly  conscious  that  *  much  learning 
is  a  weariness  of  the  flesh.' 

^°  °^uer  correspondence,  for  centuries,  reveals  such 
pleasant  glimpses  of  a  scholar's  life,  or  better  illustrates  the 
difficulties  which  attended  its  pursuit.  The  death  of  his 
friend  and  adviser,  Einhard,  which  occurred  in  839,  before 
Lupus  was  raised  to  the  abbatship,  must  have  been  felt  by 
him  as  no  ordinary  loss.  After  his  return  to  Ferrieres,  we 
find  him  thus  writing  to  his  revered  Mentor  :  '  I  am  coming 
to  see  you,'  he  says,  *  to  bring  you  back  your  books  and  to 
ascertain  from  you  which  I  am  likely  to  need.  I  should 
have  sent  you  Aulus  Gellius,  only  the  abbat  '  [Odo]  *-  has 
kept  it  on  the  plea  that  he  has  not  yet  had  it  transcribed, 
but  he  has  promised  to  write  to  explain  that  he  has  forcibly 
deprived  me  of  the  volume.'  '  It  is  to  the  same  friendly 
counsellor  that  he  laments  the  small  estimation  in  which 
learning  is  again  held.  Under  'the  most  illustrious  em- 
peror, Charles,'  he  admits  that  a  great  revival  had  taken 
place.  The  saying  had  been  verified,  Honos  alit  artes  et 

accenduntur  omnes  ad  studia  gloria.     '  But  now,'  he  goes  on 

» 

to  say,  '  those  who  seek  to  gain  a  little  knowledge  are 
scarcely  tolerated.  The  ignorant  vulgar  eye  them  as  though 
they  occupied  a  pedestal;  and  if,  by  mischance,  they  lay 
themselves  open  to  criticism,  their  faults  are  attributed  not 
to  human  weakness  but  to  some  inherent  defect  in  their 
studies.  And  hence,  either  not  caring  to  win  the  palm  of 
wisdom  or  fearing  to  compromise  their  reputations,  they 
abandon  a  really  noble  pursuit.'  2 

It  is  suggestive  of  the  caution  requisite  against  inferring 
fr°m  the  evidence  for  a  few  isolated  instances  of  scholarly 
activity  the  existence  of  wide-spread  culture,  that  the  fore- 
going passage  belongs  to  the  very  correspondence  in  which, 
we  find  the  most  frequent  proofs  at  this  period  of  literary 
taste  and  learned  intercourse.  Lupus  himself  appears  as  an 
energetic  borrower,  though  somewhat  wary  lender,  of  books. 
1  Epist.  5.  2  Epitt.  1. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY.  167 

When  he   apprehended  the   refusal  of  a  loan,  he  worked     CHAP. 

through  friends.     Thus  he  begs  his   relative  Marcward  to   v_ ,_' . 

send  to  Fulda  a  dexterous  monk  (sotertem  aliguem  monachum) 
who  will  ask  the  abbat,  Hatto,  for  a  copy  of  Suetonius  to 
transcribe.1  'It  is  in  two  moderate-sized  volumes/  he  adds, 
'  which  you  can  yourself  bring,  or  should  you  be  unable  to 
come,  can  send  by  a  trusty  messenger/  With  the  archbishop 
of  Tours  he  makes  interest  for  the  commentaries  of  Boethius 
on  the  Topica  of  Cicero — a  loan  with  respect  to  which  he 
promises  to  observe  the  utmost  secrecy.8  When  St.  Judoc 
had  been  restored  to  the  monastery,  he  takes  advantage  of 
the  event  to  beg  from  the  community  at  York,  on  behalf  of 
the  foundation  over  which  Alcuin  had  watched,  copies  of 
Jerome's  Questions  on  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  those 
by  Bede,  and  the  Institutions  of  Quintilian.3  Similarly, 
when  two  of  the  monks  at  Ferrieres  set  out  for  Rome,  he 
sends  with  the  letter  of  recommendation  a  petition  to 
Benedict  in  for  copies  of  Jerome  on  Jeremiah  ('  from  the 
sixth  book  to  the  end*),  Cicero  De  Oratore,  and  Quintilian; 
they  already,  he  explains,  possess  certain  portions  of  these 
authors,  but  are  anxious  to  have  them  complete.  A  copy  of 
Donatus  on  Terence  would  be  an  additional  favour,  and  his 
Holiness  may  rely  on  their  prompt  return.4  Sometimes  he 
was  much  perplexed  by  requests  for  loans  from  quarters 
which  he  could  not  trust ;  and  on  one  occasion  he  announces 
his  resolve,  in  order  to  evade  a  troublesome  application,  to 
send  a  certain  volume  out  of  the  way  for  safety  (ablegandum 
ilium  aliquo,  ne  perire  contingeret,  p'ene  statui).5 

The  literary   activity   revealed   is   not  less  interesting,  Literary 
accompanied,   as  it  sometimes  is,  by   a  passing  criticism,  criticisms. 
Caesar,  he  takes  occasion  to  inform  one  correspondent,  is  not 
the   author  of  the   History   of  the  Komans.       'His  only 
extant  work,*  he  says,  *  is  the   Commentaries  on  the  Gallic 
War. 6     It  was  his    secretary,  Hirtius,  who    undertook    to 

1  Epist.  91.  2  Epist.  16.  5  Epist.  62. 

*  Epist  20.  5  Epist.  37. 

6  Conmientarii  belli   Gallic!,  quorum  ad   vos  mauavit  opiuio,  tantuin 
exstant.'    Migne,  cxix  505. 


168 


LUPUS  SERVATUS. 


CHAP. 
IVT. 


Enumera- 
tion of 
classical 
authors 
that  ap- 
pear to 
have  been 
known  to 
him. 


add  to  the  Commentaries  the  narrative  of  Caesar's  other 
wars,  at  a  time  when  his  master  was  absorbed  iu  the  affairs 
of  the  world.'  Sometimes  he  begs  the  loan  of  a  manuscript 
in  order  to  correct  another  in  his  own  possession.  He 
thanks  Adelgard  for  correcting  a  Macrobius.  He  promises 
another  friend  to  collate  a  copy  of  the  Letters  of  Cicero  with 
his  own  copy,  and  at  the  same  time  asks  to  borrow  Cicero's 
translation  of  Aratus,  in  order  to  fill  up  certain  lacunae  in  a 
manuscript  of  his  own  which  his  friend  Egilius  has  pointed 
out  to  him.  From  one  incidental  notice  he  would  appear 
to  have  interested  himself  in  the  restoration  of  the  use  of 
the  uncial  character,  which  at  this  time  had  nearly  dis- 
appeared. The  following  list  of  authors,  quoted  or  referred 
to  in  his  letters,  includes  nearly  every  classical  writer  known 
or  studied  in  his  time.  Among  the  historians  we  find 
Livy,1  Sallust,3  Caesar,3  Suetonius,4  and  Justin ;  5  in  rhetoric, 
Cicero 6  and  Quintilian ; 7  the  poets  Vergil,8  Horace, 9 
Terence,10  and  Martial ;  n  the  grammarians  Aulus  Gellius,12 
Macrobius,13  Priscian,14  Donatus,15  Servius,16  and  Caper : 1V 


1  '  Illud  quod  sequitur  tangere  nolui  donee  in  Livio  vigilantius  inda- 
garem.'    Epist.  34. 

2  '  Oatilinarium    et    Jugurthlnum    Sallustii    nobis    offerre  dignemini.' 
Epist.  104. 

3  '  Ejusdem  Julii  Oaesaris  Commentaries  ut  primum  habere  potuero  vobis 
dirigendos  curabo.'    Epist.  37. 

4  Epist.  91. 

6  'Refert  Pompeius  Trogus  Mithridatis   regis    futuranx    excellentiam 
cometa  praemonstratam.'    Ejrist,  20. 

«  Epist.  1,  8,  20,  34,  46,  62,  69,  103, 104. 

7  '  Petimus  etiam  Tullium  de  Oratore  et  duodecim  libros  Institutionum 
Oratoriarum  Qiuntiliani.'     Epist.  103. 

8  Epist.  4,  6,  20,  34,  37,  44. 

9  '  Horatianum  illud  doctissimorum  ore  trituin  merito  accipiam.'    Epist. 
1,64. 

10  'Pari   intentione    Donati    Oommentum   in    Terentium    flagitamua.' 
Epist.  103. 

11  'Item  apud  Martialem;  "Quid  tibi  cum  fiala  ligulam  committere 
posses." '    Epist.  20. 

ia  '  A.  Gellium  misissem  nisi  riirsus  ilium  abbas  retinuisset.'    Epist.  6. 

13  '  Habeo   vero  tibi  plurimas  gratias    quod   in    Macrobio  corrigeudo 
fraternum  adhibuisti  laborem.'    Epist.  8, 

14  Epist.  8, 34.  15  Epist.  103.  , 

18  '  Namque  quod  alia  (verba)  penultimam  primae  rel  secundae  personae 
producant,  auctor  est  Servius.'    Epist.  8,  5,  15. 
17  Epist.  20. 


THE  CLASSICS  IN  THE  NINTH  CENTURY.  169 

with  the  text-books  to  which  we  have  already  referred  as 
the  manuals  of  the  period,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that 
he  shews  the  usual  familiarity. 

Even  in  the  midst  of  details  like  these,  which  seem  to  Difficul- 
transport  us  to  another  age,  the  troublous  character  of  the  dangers 
times  will  now  and  then  intrude.     We  find  him  refusing  the  that  at 
loan  of  a  book  to  a  monk  of  Sens,  short  as  was  the  distance  efforts. 
from  Ferrieres,  on  the  ground  that  his  messenger  is  travel- 
ling on  foot.     He  excuses  himself  to  Hincmar  from  lending 
a  copy  of  the  Collectaneiim  of  Bede,  on  the  plea  that  *  the 
volume  is  too  large  to  be  hidden  in  the  vest  or  in  the  wallet, 
and,  even  if  that  were  possible,  the  bearer  might  possibly  fall 
in  with  a  band  of  robbers  who  would  certainly  be  tempted 
by  the  beauty  of  the   manuscript.'1      At   Ferrieres   itself 
there  was  little  sense  of  security.     '  If  you  knew  the  situa- 
tion of  our  monastery,'  he  writes  to  the  abbat  of  St.  Martin 
of  Tours,  *  you  would  not  have  thought  of  entrusting  your 
treasures  to  our  keeping,  I  will  not  say  for  long,  but  even 
for  three  days.     For  though  access  hither  may  not  appear 
easy  for  these  pirates  .  .  .  yet  the  monastery  is  so  little 
protected  by  its  situation,  and  we  have  so  few  men  capable 
of  opposing  them,  that  this  itself  is  a  temptation  to  their 
greed.'  2 

The  beneficial  influence  of  his  favourite  studies  on  his 
habits  of  thought  may  be  discerned  in  his  distaste  for  un- 


profitable  speculation  on  theological  questions  that  admitted  studies  dis- 
of  no  solution.  When.  Gotteschalk,  as  yet  uncondemned  for 
heresy,  consulted  him  on  a  difficulty  of  this  character,  he 
replied  by  advising  him  not  to  fatigue  his  mind  with  such 
questions,  lest,  in  becoming  over-absorbed  in  their  investiga- 
tion, he  should  thus  expend  the  strength  needed  for  more 
useful  enquiries.3  His  intellect,  disciplined  by  contact  with 
the  robust  sense  of  the  Roman  writers,  shrank  with  healthy 
aversion  from  such  sterile  and  interminable  discussions  ; 
and  when  in  his  Liber  de  Trilms  Quaestionibus  Jie  strove  to 
set  at  rest  the  controversies  then  raging  on  the  subjects  of 
predestination,  freewill,  and  the  atonement,  it  was  simply  to 
1  Epist.  76.  -  Epist.  1  10.  3  Hpist.  80. 


170  LUPUS  SERVATUS. 

cite  the  Scriptural  passages  bearing  on  these  questions  and 
to  append  to  them  the  decisions  of  the  Fathers. 

Certainly  the  eye  is  gladdened  as,  in  traversing  a  gloomy 
century,  it  encounters  this  bright  gleam  of  classic  taste  and 
the  antique  spirit.  At  a  time  when  the  Northmen  were 
ravaging  the  western  provinces  and  carrying  fire  and  sword 
along  the  fertile  valleys  of  the  Seine  and  the  Loire,  when 
the  wolves  were  prowling  in  countless  numbers  through  half- 
depopulated  Aquitaine,  when  whatever  intellectual  vigour 
that  was  apparent  expended  itself  chiefly  in  a  fantastic  tam- 
pering with  Scripture  or  in  fierce  theological  debate,  we  turn 
with  relief  to  one  oasis  in  the  desert,  fragrant  with  the  per- 
fumes of  Parnassus,  verdant  with  the  Castalian  spring. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA:  OR,  THE  IRISH  SCHOOL, 

WE  lose  all  sight  of  Clement  of  Ireland  after  the  time  of 
Charles  the  Great,  and  it  is  probable  that  during  the  reign 
of  Lewis  the  Pious  the  Irish  school  of  philosophy  received 
but  little  encouragement  at  court.  But  in  the  reign  of 
Charles  the  Bald  a  new  impulse  was  given  to  learning  by 
the  united  influence  of  the  royal  example  and  the  appearance 
of  a  notable  thinker  in  Frankland. 

It  was  observed  by  an  eminent  scholar  of  the  seventeenth  Observa- 
century  that  John  Scotus  Erigena  appeared  to  have  been  Thomas 
born  subject  to  a  strange  fatality,  whereby  men's  judgement  Gale. 
on  him  was  destined  to  be  always  changing.1    The  numerous 
attempts  at  elucidating    his  philosophy  and  his  character 
that  have  been  made  since  the  days  of  Thomas  Gale  do  not 
tend  to  impair  the  justice  of  this  observation.     In  the  cri- 
ticisms by  Maurice,  Milinan,  Staudenuiaier,  St.  Rene  Tail- 
landier,  Christlieb,  Kaulich,  Haureau,  and  Huber,  the  view 
of  each  writer  differs,  in  some  important  respect,  from  the 
views  of  nearly  all  the  rest.2    To  essay  the  task  of  deciding  jonn 
among  these  different  authorities,  would  be  to  enter  upon  a  Scotus  the 

j  j          •       L  -  'j.        i  i      .1        connect- 

very   lengthened   and    minute   enquiry    quite    beyond    the  ing  link 

province  of  these  pages ;  but,  while  omitting  all  discussion  ^T6^ 

1  'Eo  fato  niihi  natus  fui.«se  Joaunes  videtur,  ut.  houiinmu  de  sejudicia  ^C10°. so 
semper  alternantia  subiret.'    Thomas  Gale,  Pref.  to  De  2)iv.  Nat.,  1681.          an(j  ^e 

2  Maurice,  Mediaeval  Philosophy,  pp.  45-79 ;  Miluiau,  iv  330-5 ;  Stau-   scholastic 
denuioier,   J.    Scotus    Eriyetut  wid    die    W-i&senschaft    seiner    Ztit,   1833 ;   philo- 
Taillandier,   Scot   Eriyene  et  la  philosophic  sckolastique,  1843;  Christlieb,   s°Pny. 
Leben  und  Lchre  des  Johannes  Scot  us  Erigend,  1860;  Kaulich,  Geschichte 

der  scholrislischen  Philosophic,  vol.  i,  J863;  Haureau,  PhilosopMe  Scholastique, 
c  viii;  Huber  (J.  N.),  Joh.  Scotus  Erigena,  1861. 


172 


His  birth 
and  early 
education. 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

of  much  that  is  ambiguous  and  obscure,  it  will  at  the  same 
time  not  be  difficult  to  point  out  with  reasonable  certainty 
the  general  character  of  John's  influence  as  a  thinker.  Of 
this  the  main  importance  and  significance  are  to  be  found 
in  the  fact,  that  that  influence  forms  the  connecting  link 
between  the  traditions  which  have  occupied  our  attention  in 
the  preceding  pages  and  the  great  subsequent  developement 
known  as  the  scholastic  philosophy.  By  some,  indeed,  John 
Scotus  has  been  regarded  as  himself  the  inaugurator  of  that 
philosophy,1  and  it  is  certainly  no  exaggeration  to  say  that 
the  impetus  he  gave  to  speculation,  and  the  manner  in  which, 
with  far  greater  boldness  than  Rabanus,  he  introduced  the 
employment  of  dialectic — so  that,  after  having  been  long  re- 
garded as  a  dangerous  and  unlawful  art,  the  logic  of  Aristotle 
eventually  became  the  recognised  weapon  for  defending  the 
doctrines  of  the  Church — were  tantamount  to  a  revolution  in 
the  method  of  theological  enquiry. 

The  career  of  this  remarkable  man  commences  and  closes 
in  obscurity.  There  can  be  little  question  that  he  was,  as 
his  name  implies,  an  Irishman — *  a  native  of  the  Holy  Isle ; J  * 
but  the  year  of  his  birth  can  be  fixed  with  no  greater  cer- 
tainty than  between  the  years  800  and  815.  His  education, 
again,  was  doubtless  received  in  one  or  other  of  those  famous 
Irish  monasteries  which  have  already  claimed  our  attention — 
a  fact  of  which  his  Greek  learning  and  his  sympathy  with  the 
Celtic  tendencies  in  philosophy  and  theology  are  unmistake- 
able  evidence;  but  the  only  part  of  his  career  respecting  which 
we  have  any  trustworthy  information  is  that  of  his  life  in 
Frankland.  It  was  when  he  was  somewhat  more  than  thirty 
years  of  age,  probably  about  the  year  845,  that  John  set  foot- 
in  the  realm  of  Charles  the  Bald — a  still  young,  enthusiastic, 
and  vigorous  thinker,  his  favourite  manual  that  same 
treatise  by  Martianus  Capella  which  the  Church  so  much 

1  e.g.  Staudenmaier;  Buhle,  Gesch.  der  Kilnste  und  Wissenschaften,  i 
823.  Hegel,  Varies,  iibcr  Gesch.  d.  Philosophic,  Hi  159-161.  Ueberweg, 
Getch.  d.  Pkiloncphie,  i  103-111. 

8  '  Jenigena  aber  sei  eine  Zusammensetzung  aua  fepoC  ecilic.  vijvov  und 
ffena,  nae.li  dem  Beispiel  von  Graijugena,  wie  Johannes  selbat  deu  hi. 
Maximus  benenne.'  Huber,  p.  39. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  ^73 

mistrusted,  he  himself  well  versed  in  the  Greek  Fathers,  es-      CHAP, 
pecially  Origen,  whose  genius  for  philosophic  speculation  he   ^_  ^'  ^ 
greatly  admired,1  his  whole  mental  vision,  to  use  the  expres- 
sion of  William  of  Mahnesbury,  *  concentrated  on  Greece.' 

Had  Lewis  the  Pious  still  sat  on  his  father's  throne,  Hisrecep- 
Jolm's  reception  at  the  Frankish  court  would  probably  have  c^u^f110 
been  of  no  encouraging  character.     But  the  aged  emperor,  Charles 
the  careful  guardian  of  the  traditions  of  the  Church,  had  been 
succeeded  by  his  youngest  son  (of  whom  John  was  nearly  as 
much  the  senior  as  Alcuin  was  the  senior  of  Charles  the 
Great),  and  between  the  youthful  monarch  and  the  young 
philosopher  there  at  once   sprung  up   an   intimacy  which 
appears  to  have  lasted  until  the  former's  death.     John,  when 
he  first  attracts  our  notice  in  Frankland,  had  already  been 
appointed  teacher  of  the  Palace  School. 

In   almost  every  respect,   save   in   a   common    love   of  Character 
learning,  Charles  was  a  complete  contrast  to  his  father,  and  of  Charles- 
even  in  this  relation  a  difference  is  discernible ;  for  while 
Lewis'  favourite  study  was  the  mysteries  of  Scriptural  inter- 
pretation, the  sou  delighted  in  philosophic  subtleties.     It 
must,   however,   be   acknowledged    that   his    patronage   of 
learning  appears  to  have  included  all  schools  and  all  parties. 
He  was  probably  the  most  liberal  benefactor  of  letters  in  his  iris  liberal 
time.     If  we  may  accept  the  testimony  of  Eric  of  Auxerre, 
as  given  in  a  somewhat  fulsome  dedication  written  towards 

O 

the  latter  part  of  Charles'  reign,  he  was  '  the  stay  of  schools 
and  studies  in  well-nigh  every  land,'  *  the  cultivators  of  the 
most  excellent  learning  had  nocked  from  all  quarters  to  his 
realm,'  so  that,  as  Eric  goes  on  to  say,  *  your  school  is  rightly 
styled  the  Palace  School,  where  the  chief  daily  devotes  him- 
self to  scholarly  no  less  than  to  martial  exercises.' 2 

Charles'  fondness  for  disputations  and  the  discussion  of 

1  ' .  .  .  magnum  Origenem,  diligentissirnum  rerum  inquisitorem.'  De 
JXv.  Nat. 

3  ' .  ,  .  cunctarum  fere  gentium  scholas  et  studia  sustulisti  ...  in  earn 
mundi  partein,  quani  vestra  poteatas  complectitur,  universa  optituaruni 
artium  studia  confluxerunt.  .  .  .  Ita  ut  merito  vocitetur  echok  palatium : 
cujus  apex  non  minus  scholaribus  quani  militaribus  consuescit  quotidie 
disciplinis.'  Epist.  Dedicat.  to  Charles  the  Bald*  Migne,  cxxiv  1134. 


174  JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

knotty  qtiaestiones  rendered  the  Irish  scholars,  the  professed 
disciples  of  dialectic,  especially  welcome  at  his  court.     Nor 
were  they  slow  to  avail  themselves  of  his  generous  hospitality 
and  aid.     Impelled  partly  by  penury,  partly  by  the  national 
love  of  change  and  adventure,  they  appear  at  this  period  as 
Influx  of     inundating  Frankland.     In  such  numbers  did  they  present 
•'sh          themselves  as  applicants  for  the  charity  which  it  was  then 
into  Frank-  held  to  be  a  religious  duty  to  extend  to  the  stranger,  that 
hospitals  or  houses  of  temporary  shelter  were  erected  for 
their  exclusive  benefit.1  The  writer  above  quoted  declares  that 
'  nearly  all  learned  Ireland,  disdaining  the  perils  of  the  sea, 
had  sought  in  voluntary  exile  to  subserve  the  wishes  of  one 
who  was  a  Solomon  in  wisdom.' 2 

Circnm-  Such  were  the  circumstances  under  which  John   Scotus 

John68  appears  upon  the  scene.  In  strong  contrast  to  Alcuin,  he 
Scotus'  came  vacating  no  well-endowed  scholastic  chair,  entrusted 
Contrasted  with  no  dignified  ecclesiastical  functions,  sorely  missed  from 
with  those  his  native  land  and  reluctantly  suffered  to  depart,  but  rather, 

of  Alcuin  s.  J  *  ' 

to  quote  his  own  metaphor,  asji  storm- tossed  voyager  anxiously 
seeking  a  quiet  haven.3  HJ^attainraents,  however,  were  cer- 
tainly in  no  respect  inferior  to  Alcuin's,  and  commanded  not 
only  the  admiration  of  friendly  critics,  but  also  that  of  those 
who  had  little  sympathy  with  his  genius  or  his  opinions. 
His  cxten-  He  was  a  master  of  clear  and  terse  exposition.  He  pos- 
sesse<^  a  fairly  correct  and  even  elegant  Latin  style.4  His 
knowledge  of  Greek,  which  has  been  variously  estimated, 
may  be  a  matter  of  some  doubt,  for  his  acquaintance  with 
the  Timaeus  of  Plato  was  probably  gained  through  the  Latin 
version  of  Chalcidius,  and  he  confesses,  with  the  modesty  of 
true  genius,  that  his  knowledge  of  the  language  is  that  of  a 
tyro.5  But  as  counter-evidence  there  is  the  significant  fact 

1  '  ITospitalia  Scotorum,  qune  sancti  homines  gentis  illius  in  hoc  regno 
construxeruut.'    Capit.  of  Synod  at  Epernay,  aim.  846.     Pertz,  Legg.  i  390. 

2  {  Quid  Hiberniana.  memorem,  contempt  o  pelagi  discrimine,  pene  to  tarn 
cum  grege  philosopher um  ad  littora  nostra  migrantem;  quorum  quisquis 
peritior  est,  ultro  sibi  indicit  exsilium,  ut  Salamoni  papieutissimo  famuletur 
ad  votum.'    Migne,  cxxiv  1133. 

8  Huber,  p.  49.  *  Ibid.  p.  44. 

5  ' .  .  .  rudes  admodum  tirones  adhuc  helladicorum  studiorum  fatemur.' 
Pref.  to  Dionysii  Hier.,  Huber,  p.  43, 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  175 

that  he  was  singled  out  by  his  royal  patron  for  a  task  which,      CHAP, 
it  would  seem,  no  one  else  had  hitherto  been  able  to  perform   .     "V"_   ^ 
— the  translation  of  the  Pseudo-Dionysius.1     Haureau  calls  His  know- 
attention  to  the  Greek  title  of  his  most  important  work.     He  Greek? 
was,  beyond  all  question,  well  acquainted  with  the  original 
of  the  New  Testament,2  and  among  the  Greek  Fathers  was 
familiar  with  Gregory  Nazianzen  (whom,  however,  he  appears 
to  have  identified  with  Gregory  of  Nyssa  3),  with  Origen,  St. 
Basil,  and  St.  Chrysostorn.     If  we  add  to  these  acquirements 
a  natural  subtlety  of  intellect  and  aptitude  for  controversy 
which  indicate  a  mind  of  altogether  a  different  stamp  from 
Alcuin's,4  we  shall  be  ready  to  admit  that  in  characteristics 
like  these  there  was  alone  enough  to  excite  the  curiosity  and 
expectation  of  the  learned  in  Frankland. 

But  to  these  gifts,  inborn  and  acquired,  John  Scotus  His  Celtic 
united  other  qualities  still  more  likely  to  challenge  observa-  culture- 
tion.  He  exemplified,  in  a  very  marked  degree,  the  tenden- 
cies of  his  school — the  Celtic  proneness  to  speculation  and 
the  Celtic  impatience  of  dogmatic  teaching.  His  high  es- 
timate of  the  value  of  Hartianus  Capella  is  attested  by  the 
fact  that  he  compiled  a  commentary  on  the  treatise,  which 
has  recently  been  brought  to  light  by  modern  research; 
from  the  pages  of  that  author,  indeed,  he  had,  in  the  opinion 
of  Prudentius  of  Troyes,  *  imbibed  a  deadly  poison,'  * — in 
less  rhetorical  phrase,  he  dared  to  assert  the  claims  of  reason 

1  I  must  confess  my  inability  to  discover  the  grounds  on  which  one 
writer  rests  his  assertion,  when  comparing  John's  knowledge  of  Greek 
literature  and  Greek  philosophy  with  Alcuin's,  that '  as  far  as  mere  acquaint- 
ance with   Greek  letters  goes  there  is  no  question  about  Alcuin's  supe- 
riority '  (Maurice,  Mediaeval  Phil,  p.  46).     The  facts  appear  to  me  to  point 
to  exactly  the  opposite  conclusion. 

2  Huber  (p.  44)  considers  that  his  knowledge  of  the  Old  Testament  was 
limited  to  the  version  of  Jerome. 

8  ' .  .  .  veuerabilis  Gregorius  Nazianzenus,  qui  et  Nyssaeus  dicitur.' 
De  Div.  Nat.  in  40.  Christlieb,  p.  118. 

4  Floss  confesses  that  on  his  first  perusal  of  John's  writings  he  was 
struck  by  his  wonderful  and  singular  subtlety  in  argument, — hand  parvm 
me  movisse  speciosam  ac  paene  singvlarem  disputandi  subtilitatem  cwifiteor. 
Migne,  cxii,  i. 

4  Migne,  civ  1294, 


176  JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA, 

CHAP,     in  opposition  to  mere  authority  ;  while  in  maintaining  the 
^      j     ^  value  of  dialectic  as  the  special  instrument  for  the  investiga- 

tion of  all  truth,  he  took  up  a  position  distinctly  opposed  to 

the  traditions  of  the  Latin  Church. 

Influence  To  these  more  general  grounds  of  variance  must  be  added 

onhTJmind  Another  element  of  difference,  and  one  to  which  perhaps 
*>y  tne  none  of  his  numerous  critics  have  assigned  quite  its  full 
and  the  weight  —  we  allude  to  the  marked  influence  exercised  on  his 


Pseudo-      mind  by  two  very  different  treaties  —  the  Timaeus  of  Plato 
Dionysius.  *  * 

and  the  Hierarchies  of  Dionysius.     In  days  when  real  inde- 

pendence of  thought  was  still  undreamt  of,  and  the  utmost 
ambition  of  the  boldest  thinker  was  to  prove  the  superiority 
of  one  school  of  ancient  doctrine  over  another,  it  is  scarcely 
possible  to  over-estimate  the  importance  of  the  direction  of 
a  scholar's  reading.  It  may,  we  think,  be  clearly  shewn 
that  by  far  the  greater  part  of  what  was  most  noteworthy 
and  novel  in  John's  philosophy  and  theology  was  derived 
from  the  above-named  sources. 

The  latter  ^  *ne  la^er  treatise  it  will  be  better  to  speak  first.  It  is 
treatise  Well  known  that  the  patron  saint  of  France,  honoured  under 
the  name  of  St.  Denys,  was  alleged  to  be  that  same  Diony- 
sius the  Areopagite  who  is  mentioned  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  l  as  among  the  converts  gained  by  St.  Paul  after 
his  memorable  discourse  on  Mar's  Hill,  and  who,  according 
to  tradition,  was  the  first  bishop  of  Athens.  To  this  Diony- 
sius was  also  assigned  the  a,uthorship  of  a  discourse  concern- 
ing the  Celestial  and  Ecclesiastical  Hierarchies,  a  work  which 
more  modern  criticism,  however,  inclines  to  attribute  to  the 
Christian  school  at  Edessa  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth 
century.2  Of  this  treatise  a  copy  had  been  sent  by  pope 
Paul  to  Pepin-le-Brefin  757,  and  a  yet  more  splendid  manu- 
script by  the  eastern  emperor,  Michael  Balbus,  to  Lewis  the 

1  xvn  34. 

2  The  evidence  for  this  conclusion  will  hft  found  summed  up  in  Mr.  Lup- 
ton's  introduction  to  his  edition  of  Colet's  Two  Treatises  on  the  Hitrarchieg 
of  Dioni/si-utt  pp.   xxxii-xxxviii.     See  also  Canon   Westcott's  admirable 
article  in  Cont.  Rev.  (May,  1867),  Dianythu  the  Areopagite..     Gieseler  (i  ii 
351,  ed.  1845)  says  that  the  Dionysian  writings  '  ohue  Zweifel  in  Aegypten 
abgefasst  waren.' 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  177 

Pious.1     Such  a  present  could  not  fail  to  appeal  very  forcibly     CHAP. 
to  the  superstitious  reverence  of  Frankland,  and  Hilduin,   ._  V"     ,. 
the  abbat  of  St.  Den}rs,  was  induced  to  attempt  its  transla-  John  in- 
tion  ;  but  his  efforts,  which  probably  much  resembled  those  charlesthe 
of  the  earlier  Humanists  in  the  fifteenth  century  in  relation  Bald  to 
to  Homer,  were  not  crowned  with  success,  and  the  manu-  "° 


script  still  reposed  in  the  library  of  St.  Denys,  an  object  tion- 
of  deep  though  somewhat  vague  admiration,  when  John 
Scotus  arrived  in  Frankland.2  We  can  perhaps  ask  for  no 
better  evidence  of  the  superiority  of  his  Greek  learning  to 
that  of  his  contemporaries,  than  the  fact  that  he  was  forth- 
with solicited  to  undertake  the  task  of  rendering  this  work 
into  Latin.  The  style  of  the  original,  which  often  veils  the 
meaning  in  language  of  mystic  obscurity,  rendered  his  under- 
taking one  of  considerable  difficulty.  Notwithstanding  his 
speculative  and  enquiring  cast  of  mind,  he  possessed  nothing 
of  the  critical  spirit,  and  the  gross  anachronisms  involved 
in  the  assumption  of  the  Dionysian  authorship  do  not  appear 
to  have  arrested  his  attention.  His  main  anxiety  was  to 
guard  against  rendering  himself  liable  to  the  charge  of  hav- 
ing tampered  with  the  sense,  and  he  accordingly  produced 
a  version  of  almost  painful  literalness.  To  use  the  expres-  Testimony 
sion  of  Anastasius,  the  papal  librarian,  his  interpretation  of  A.na" 
still  needed  an  interpreter.3  In  other  respects,  however,  his  success. 
the  Italian  critic  is  loud  in  his  praise.  '  It  is  astonishing,' 
he  says,  *  how  this  barbarian  (vir  ille  barbants)  living  on  the 
confines  of  the  world,  who  might  reasonably  have  been 
presumed  to  be  as  ignorant  of  Greek  as  he  was  remote  from 
intercourse  with  civilised  men,  could  have  been  able  intellec- 
tually to  gra,sp  such  mysteries  and  to  render  them  into 
another  language.*  4 

1  Huber,  p.  60;  Christlieb,  p.  26. 

8  Staudenmaier,  p.  163. 

8  '  .  .  .  et  quern  interpretaturum  susceperat,  adhuc  redderet  interprw- 
taiidum  '  (quoted  by  Christlieb,  p.  63). 

4  '  Mirandum  est  quomodo  vir  ille  barbarus,  qui,  in  finibus  mundi  positus, 
quanto  ab  hominibus  conversations  tanto  credi  potuit  alterius  lin<niae 
dictione  longinquus  .  .  .  talia  iulellectu  capere  in  aliamque  linguam  trans- 
ferre  valuerit'  (quoted  by  Haureau,  p.  153). 

8 


178 


Influence 
of  the 
treatise  on 
his  philo- 
sophy. 


The 
Timaeus. 


The 

Platonic 
theory  not 
rcconcile- 


JOIIN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

The  contents  and  character  of  the  Hierarchies  of  Diony- 
sins  have  so  often  been  epitomised  and  described,  as  fairly 
to  exonerate  ns  from  here  attempting  an  outline  of  the  work. 
Briefly  it  may  be  said  that  ttey  harmonised  in  a  twofold 
manner  with  the  spirit  of  western  mediaevalism.  They  ex- 
hibited the  different  orders  of  the  hierarchy  as  symbolical  of 
a  like  order  in  heaven — a  theory  especially  acceptable  to  the 
aspiring  spirit  of  the  Latin  Church ;  and  they  offered  to  the 
devotion  of  the  monastic  recluse  an  object  of  unwearying 
contemplation,  in  the  doctrine  they  unfolded  of  a  future 
union  with  the  Supreme  Being,  and  a  final  reabsorption 
into  the  Divine  Nature.  In  the  closing  book  of  John 
Scotus'  DC  Divisione  Naturae  this  latter  theory,  of  an  Abso- 
lute Existence  in  which  the  pure  and  perfected  soul  is  finally 
merged  and  lost,  is  set  forth  at  considerable  length ;  the 
late  professor  Maurice  has  clearly  proved  that  the  writer's 
inspiration  was  derived,  not  from  any  Neo-Platonic  writings, 
as  Guizot  supposes,  but  from  the  pages  of  the  Pseudo- 
Dionysius.1 

The  second  treatise,  the  Timaeus  of  Plato,  exercised  over 
the  mind  of  John  Scotus  a  less  general  but  perhaps  not  less 
potent  influence.  It  is  well  known  to  every  scholar  that 
Plato's  cosmogony,  as  unfolded  in  this  dialogue,  presents  us 
with  a  very  peculiar  view  of  the  guiding  power  of  the  uni- 
verse. 'Avdymi,  Necessity,  the  l  erratic,  irregular,  random, 
Causality,'  is  here  not  simply  distinguished  from,  but  op- 
posed to,  the  Demiurgus,  the  intelligent  formative  power. 
Fate  and  design,  much  like  the  MOI/MU  and  the  gods  of  the 
Greek  mythology,  are  described  as  antagonistic  forces.  It  is 
only  within  certain  limits  that  divine  skill,  divine  design,  and 
divine  order,  can  find  effect ;  beyond  those  limits  lie  the  opera- 
tions of  a  superior  force,  but  a  force  planless,  undetermined, 
and  irregular  in  its  working,  vis  consili  expers.  According 
to  this  conception,  as  an  eminent  critic  has  clearly  pointed 
out,2  Necessity,  in  the  Platonic  sense,  nearly  corresponded 
to  the  modern  theological  conception  of  free  will,  and  was 
consequently  altogether  opposed  to  what  Augustine  denoted 

1  Mediaeval  Philosophy,  pp.  50-55..          8  Grote,  Flato,  iii  248-51. 


*  THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  579 

by  the  term  predestination;  while  as  thus  understood  and 
accepted  by  John   Seotus,  it  appeared  to  him  to  offer  the 
most  philosophical  solution  of  the  great  problem  with  re-  able  with 
spect  to  which  the  utterance  of  Scripture  is  ambiguous  and  Pr?de.stm- 

*•  °  «i  riiiiiis  Jii* 

that  of  the  Fathers  at  variance. 

To  his  application  and  able  assertion  of  this  Platonic  ninomar 
theory  we  may  probably  attribute  the  fact  that  John  was  Lnytc* 
selected  by  Hiucinar  to  undertake  the  refutation  of  Gotte-  reply  to 
schalk.      He   arrived   in   Frankland   at   a  very  favourable  ^alk. 
juncture  for  securing  that  prelate's  favour  and  support ;  the 
able   and  ambitious  churchman,  far  more  politician  than 
divine,  was  sorely  in  need  of  an  able  pen  to  aid  him  in  the 
contest  in  which  he  was  now  involved  with  the  other  members 
of  the  episcopate  and  a  majority  of  the  inferior  clergy. 

It  had  been  looked  upon  as  a  grievous  discredit  to  Fulda,  Gotte- 
and  had  been  no  slight  trial  to  Rabanus,  when,  in  the  year  sehill.Its 

0  .  previous 

829,  one  of  their  number,  a  young  Saxon  of  noble  family  of  career, 
the  name  of  Gotteschalk,  had  announced  his  weariness  of 
the  monastic  life,  and  obtained  from  the  Synod  at  Maintz  a 
formal  dispensation  from  his  vows.  He  pleaded  that  it  was 
only  under  compulsion  that  he  had  ever  become  a  Benedictine, 
and  his  plea  had  been  held  valid  by  the  Synod  on  the  ground 
that  a  Saxon  could  thus  forfeit  his  freedom  only  when  the 
ceremony  had  been  attested  by  a  witness  of  the  same  nation- 
ality. Rabanus,  however,  subsequently  drew  up  a  treatise 
to  prove  that  pious  parents  have  a  right  to  impose  such  a 
sacrifice  on  their  offspring ;  and  urged,  with  greater  force, 
that  all  that  could  be  reasonably  required  in  an  attesting 
witness  was  integrity  and  credibility  without  respect  to 
rank  or  race.1  His  argument  was  recognised  as  valid  by 
Lewis  the  Pious,  and  the  decision  of  the  Synod  of  Maintz 
was  reversed.  Gotteschalk  was  only  permitted  to  transfer 
himself  from  the  monastery  at  Fulda  to  that  of  Orbais  in  the 
diocese  of  Soissons.  At  Orbais  he  gave  himself  up  to  the 
study  of  Augustine,  and  of  Augustine's  follower,  Fulgentius.2 

1  Diimmler,  i  811-12.      To  this  able  writer's  clear  and  careful  narrative 
I  am  mainly  indebted  for  the  order  of  events  iu  Gotteschalk's  career. 
»  Ibid. " 


180  JOHN  SCOTUS  EK1GENA. 

CHAP.  Of  the  latter  writer  lie  became  so  completely  the  avowed  and 
^  /  _.  uncompromising  disciple  that  among  his  opponents  he  was 
commonly  known  by  the  same  name.  He  re-asserted,  in  its 
harshest  and  most  repellant  form,  the  doctrine  of  predes- 
tination, and  was  indefatigable  in  his  efforts  to  bring  over  to 
his  views  the  foremost  theologians  of  his  day.  Among  those 
with  whom  he  corresponded  on  the  subject,  were  Ratramnus, 
a  monk  of  Corbey ;  Jonas,  bishop  of  Orleans ;  Marcward, 
abbat  of  Prum ;  and,  as  we  have  already  noticed,  the 
scholarly  abbat  of  Ferrieres.  The  prudent  advice  given  by 
Lnpus  Servatus  was,  however,  little  to  Gotteschalk's  mind, 
conscious  as  he  was  of  powers  which  could  only  find  full 
scope  in  the  field  of  argument  and  controversy.  At  once  an 
eloquent  orator  and  a  dexterous  debater,  with  a  retentive 
memory  which  enabled  him  to  impress  an  audience  with  the 
belief  that  his  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  Fathers 
was  unparalleled,  he  longed  for  the  battle.  At  length  the 
admission  to  priestly  orders,  conferred  by  Eigbold,  the 
chorepiscopus  of  Eheims,  gave  him  the  opportunity  he 
sought ;  the  admission  carried  with  it  the  license  to  preach, 
and  Gotteschalk's  oratorical  ability  soon  drew  around  him 
numerous  followers.  His  chief,  almost  his  only  theme,  was 
the  Augustinian  doctrine  of  predestination,  upon  which  he 
untiringly  insisted  as  the  great  central  truth  of  Christianity, 
though  obscured  by  the  extent  to  which  it  had  been  suffered 
to  fall  into  the  background  in  the  theological  teaching  of  the 
age.  His  opponents,  who,  while  not  denying  the  high 
authority  of  Augustine,  could  accept  but  a  modified  form  of 
predestinarianisrn,  were  denounced  as  sectarians  who  had 
lapsed  from  the  true  faith.  In  allusion  to  his  former  teacher, 
now  his  most  determined  antagonist,  he  styled  them  the 
Rhdbanici.1 

His  theory         Gotteschalk's  fundamental  conception  of  the   Supreme 
of  predes-    Bein g  was  that  of  immu lability, — the  Unchangeable  in  nature, 


t  iiiataon. 


1  Dummler,  i  314 ;  '  omnes  qui  insairiae  sensmun  tuorum  zelo  fidei 
resistunt  haereticos  appellare  non  metuis,  eosque  a  bono  et  erudito  viro  atque 
catholico  «piecopo  Rhabanicos  nunciipare  praesumis.'  Amolo  Gothescalco, 
Sirmond,  Opp.  Var.  ii  902. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  181 

and  consequently  the  Unchangeable  in  purpose.  With  such  a 
conception  it  appeared  to  him  impossible  to  reconcile  the 
notion  that  the  fate  of  man  depended  on  his  own  conduct, 
and  remained,  as  it  were,  in  suspense  until  his  death.  No 
formal  admission  to  the  Church  on  earth,  no  sacramental 
rite,  could  in  the  slightest  degree  avail  to  save  the  soul  fore- 
ordained to  perdition.  .The  theory  of  the  freedom  of  the 
human  will  was  consequently  altogether  discarded  by  him. 

In  this  theory  of  a  divine  government  which  thus  reduced 
all  human  action  to  insignificance,  of  an  autocracy  which  re- 
cognised no  element  of  freedom  in  the  moral  world,  it  might 
at  first  sight  seem  not  improbable  that  a  Latin  clergy  would  It  divides 
be  disposed  to  detect  an  analogy  to  their  sacerdotal  system, 
involving,  as  that  system  did,  habitual  and  unquestioning 
submission  to  authority.  It  is,  however,  a  fact  familiar  to 
the  student  of  Church  history,  that  fatalism  in  theology  has 
generally  been  the  creed  of  those  who  have  rebelled  most 
stubbornly  against  ecclesiastical  tyranny,1  and  it  is  certain  that 
the  clergy  both  in  Franciaand  Germany  were  divided  by  Gotte- 
schalk's  teaching.  Rabanus,  who,  as  we  can  well  understand,  Gotte- 
had  watched  the  career  of  his  unworthy  disciple  with  little 
disposition  to  judge  him  favourably  or  leniently,  took  up  his 
pen  to  refute  the  doctrine  of  predestinarianism  with  argu- 
ments which  derived  their  main  force  from  the  consequences 
to  which,  as  he  pointed  out,  such  a  doctrine  must  inevitably 
lead.  This  treatise  appeared  in  the  year  840,  when  Gotte- 
schalk.had  already  made  numerous  converts,  not  only  in  West-» 
ern  and  Eastern  Francia,  but  also  in  Italy.  In  the  year  8  48  he 
again  visited  the  latter  country,  and  found  for  a  time  kindly 
shelter  under  the  protection  of  Eberhard,  the  distinguished 
count  of  Friuli.  Even  here,  however,  the  enmity  of  his 
former  teacher  followed  him.  Eabanus  addressed  a  letter  to 
Count  Eberhard,  pointing  out  the  perilous  tendencies  of  the 
doctrine  taught  by  Gotteschalk ;  many,  he  asserted,  were, 
under  this  influence,  falling  away  from  all  endeavour  to  lead  a 
godly  life,  being  persuaded  that  no  efforts  would  avail  to  win 
the  divine  favour,  and  that  the  actions  of  the  individual  were 
1  See,  on  this  point,  Milinan's  observations,  Lot.  Christianity,  iv  329. 


182 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 


CTIAP. 
V. 


His  efforts 
at  propa- 
gating his 
doctrine. 


His  appeal 
to  the 
Synod  of 
[Maintz. 


His  con- 
demnation 
and  dis- 
grace. 


valueless.  He  concluded  by  urging  Eberhard  not  to  suffer  a 
teacher  of  doctrine  so  injurious  to  the  faith  to  remain  under 
his  roof.1 

The  remonstrances  of  the  powerful  archbishop  of  Maintz 
were  only  too  successful,  and  Gotteschalk  was  compelled  to 
quit  the  hospitable  mansion  of  Eberhard  in  disgrace.  But 
his  spirit  was  undaunted,  and,  taking  his  course  through 
Dalinatia  and  Pannonia  into  Bavaria,  he  assumed  the  tone 
and  the  language  of  a  reformer,  exhorting  the  people  as  he 
went  to  return  to  the  true  faith.2  Hincmar,  when  subse- 
quently referring  to  his  conduct  on  this  journey,  accused 
him  of  having  usurped  the  function  of  an  apostle  among  a 
pagan  people,  and  of  having  thus  sown  the  tares  of  false 
doctrine  in  a  virgin  soil.  From  Bavaria  Gotteschalk  pro- 
ceeded to  Maintz,  and  of  his  own  accord  there  presented  him- 
self before  an  assembled  Council  of  the  nobility  and  clergy, 
and  the  teacher  and  his  former  disciple  stood  face  to  face.3 
They  maintained  their  respective  grounds  ;  the  latter  citing 
numerous  passages  from  Augustine  to  establish  the  authority 
of  the  tenet  he  taught,  and  declaring  his  readiness  personally 
to  attest  its  truth  by  submitting  to  the  terrors  of  a  fiery 
ordeal ;  the  former  insisting  on  the  essential  heterodoxy  of 
that  tenet,  and  reiterating  his  objections  to  the  consequences 
to  \\  Inch  such  teaching  must  lead.  Eabanus  bore  hardly  on 
the  renegade  monk,  and  pressed  his  conclusions  with  the 
utmost  rigour.  In  the  eyes  of  the  pious  Lewis  the  German, 
who  presided  at  the  council,  Gotteschalk  stood  convicted  of 
promulgating  doctrine  subversive  of  ah1  popular  morality. 
He  was  declared  a  heretic,  and,  along  with  many  of  his  ad- 
herents who  had  accompanied  him,  was  sentenced  to  be 
publicly  scourged.  After  this  order  had  been  executed,  he 
was  compelled  to  swear  that  he  would  never  again  set  foot 
in  East  Francia,  and  was  finally  handed  over  to  Hincmar,  in 
whose  diocese  the  monastery  of  Orbais  lay,  for  further 

1  Diinimler,  i  316-17. 

8  Prudentius,  Annales,  Pertz,  i  443.  Qottesclialk  here  appears  sketched 
by  his  subsequent  ally  as  '  scientia  tumidus,  quibusdam  superstiticmibus 
deditus.' 

3  Gfrorer,  i  214;  Duminler,  i  318. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL.  183 

punishment.  Few  will  be  disposed  to  call  in  question  the 
comment  of  Dummler,  that  it  was  a  harsh  and  unrighteous 
sentence !  and  leaves  a  stain  on  the  reputation  of  Rabanus. 
Even  Staudenmaier  admits  that  the  archbishop's  conduct 
was  neither  merciful  nor  paternal. 

The  treatment  which  Gotteschalk  received  in  the  wes-  His  con- 
tern  kingdom,  at  the  hands  of  Hincmar,  was  not  less  rig-  ft  The1*0" 
orous.     In  the  following  year,  at  the  famous  Council    of  Council  of 
Chiersy,  summoned  by  Charles  the  Bald,  his  doctrine  was  ^D.6^. 
again   condemned,  he  himself  degraded   from  his  priest's 
orders,  and,  after  having  been  cruelly  scourged,  compelled 
to  commit  to  the  flames  the  confession  of  faith  which  he 
had  drawn  up  and  persistently  taught.     He  was  then  con- 
signed  to  perpetual    imprisonment  in  the  monastery    of 
Hautvilliers.     But  even  here  his  stern  spirit  showed  itself 
still  unbroken.      He   declared  himself  confident  that  his 
teaching  would  yet  be  vindicated  by  the  divine  interposition 
on  his  behalf,  and  once  more  took  up  his  pen  to  defend  his 
interpretation  of  Augustine.2 

His  constancy  and  the  excessive  severity  with  which  he   Counter 
had  been  treated  roused  the  sympathy  of  many  on  Gotte-  j^°^gment 
schalk's  behalf.     Ratranmus,  a  monk  of  Corbey,  the  able  favour, 
opponent  of  Paschasius,  espoused  his  side,  and  set   forth 
his    own   views   in  two    books,   De    Praedestinatione  Dei,8 
which  he  dedicated  to  Charles  the  Bald.     Prudentius,  bishop 
of  Troyes,  together  with  Amolo  and  Remigius,  successively 
bishops  of  Lyons,  and  Floras,  a  presbyter  of  the  same  city, 
all  rallied  to  his  defence.     Even  Lupus  Servatus,  much  as 
he  deplored  the  controversy,  laid  aside  his  Cicero  and  his 
Quintilian  to  sum  up  the  evidence  of  the  Fathers  and  ad- 
vocate a  conclusion  that  virtually  exonerated  the  prisoner  at 
Hautvilliers  from  the  charge  of  heresy.4     With  such  an  array 

1  Dummler,  i  319.  «  Ibid,  i  319-20. 

8  Migne,  cxxi  10-11.  Ratramnus  was  not,  as  Ussher  supposes,  abbat  of 
Orbais  ;  see  Staudenmaier,  p.  191. 

4  Migne,  cxv  969.  Florus,  Amolo,  and  Remigins,  maintained  the 
doctrine  in  a  modified  form,  denying  that  men  were  fore-ordained  to  sin. 
This  has  led  some  waiters  to  suppose  that  they  sided  with  Hibcmar.  See 
Werner  (K.),  Gesch.  d.  apoifog.  undjpolem.  Liter atur,  ii  079-84. 


184 


John 
Scotus  De 
fraedesti' 
uatione. 


He  em- 
ploys the 
aid  of  dia- 
lectic. 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

of  learning  Hincinar  himself  was  but  very  imperfectly  quali- 
fied to  cope.  His  long  and  busy  public  career  left  him  no 
leisure  for  theological  speculations,  and  his  own  endeavour 
to  reply  to  the  arguments  of  Gotteschalk  must  rank  among 
the  least  considerable  of  his  claims  to  the  remembrance  of 
posterity.  Under  these  circumstances,  it  can  be  but  small 
matter  for  surprise  that  he  eagerly  availed  himself  of  the  aid 
of  the  famous  teacher  recently  installed  at  the  Palace  School ; 
and  all  learned  Frankland  now  looked  on  with  new  interest 
as  it  saw  the  hard-headed  and  resolute  Saxon  matched 
against  the  keen  intellect  and  logical  adroitness  of  the  bril- 
liant Irishman. 

The  De  Praedestirtatione  of  John  Scotus  contains,  it  is 
true,  no  direct  allusion  to  the  Timaeus,  but  it  is  easy  to  per- 
ceive that  the  conception  unfolded  in  that  dialogue  militates 
strongly  against  the  notion  of  a  definite,  irresistible,  omni- 
present purpose  working  from  all  eternity.  We  can  under- 
stand also  how  John's  theological  training  would  still  more 
directly  incline  him  to  that  view  of  the  question  which  was 
espoused  by  the  Greek  Fathers ;  while  in  the  doctrine  which 
he  found  set  forth  in  the  Celestial  Hierarchy  of  the  purely 
negative  character  of  evil,1  he  had  an  argument  which  un- 
doubtedly furnished  a  conclusive  reply  to  the  theory  of  men 
predestined  to  perdition. 

The  manner  in  which  he  addressed  himself  to  the  con- 
troversy illustrates  his  native  ingenuity  and  tact.  Urgently 
summoned,  as  he  was,  to  take  part  in  the  conflict,  he  not 
unreasonably  claimed  the  right  to  choose  his  own  weapons, 
and  the  one  on  which  he  chiefly  relied  was  that  of  dialectic. 
Though,  as  yet,  this  was  still  a  distrusted  weapon  with  the 
orthodox  party,  it  had,  as  we  have  already  seen,8  recently 
been  sanctioned  by  the  high  authority  of  Eabanus.  The 
De  Institutione  Clericorum  was  probably  by  this  time  in  the 
hands  of  almost  every  better  educated  and  more  intelligent 

1  Dionysius,  De  Divin.  Nom.  iv  2o,  a  point  with  respect  to  which  Mr. 
Lupton  notes  that  John  Oolet  ventured  to  differ  from  his  author.  See 
Lupton's  Introd.  p.  xlvii. 

*  See  supra,  p.  144i 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL. 

ecclesiastic  throughout  Frankland,  and  John  could  point 
triumphantly  to  the  passage  in  which  the  most  eminent 
teacher  in  Bast  Francia  had  vindicated  the  dialectical  art  as 
a  satisfactory  reply  to  all  objectors.  The  *  Kabanici,'  whom 
Gotteschalk  had  so  acrimoniously  assailed,  could  not  but  be 
conciliated  by  John's  appeal  to  the  dictum  of  their  leader. 

He  commences  accordingly  with  the  broad  assertion —  Religion 
an  assertion  in  which  we  may  discern  the  nascent  theory 
which  constitutes  the  key  to  the  whole  scholastic  philoso-  cannot  be 
phy — that   philosophy   and  religion  can  never  be  really  at  °ppc 
variance.     What  then,  he  asks,   are  philosophical  discus- 
sions but  an  attempt  to  enquire  into  the  principles  of  true 
religion,  whereby  the  Divine  Nature,  the  chief  and  primary 
cause  of  all  things,  is  humbly  worshipped  and  investigated 
in  a  manner  conformable  to  reason  ?     Hence  it  follows  that 
true  philosophy  is  true  religion,  and  conversely  that  true  re- 
ligion is  true  philosophy.     But  reason,  he  next  goes  on  to 
demonstrate,  requires  the  employment  of  definite  method. 
In  every  quaestio  four  principal  stages  are  necessary  to  be  His 
observed  in  its  solution — those  of  division,  definition,  de- 
monstration,  and  analysis,  which  he  designates  under  their 
Greek  names,  as  the  SiaipsTucij,  the  optcm*?;,  the  dTroSeiKTucq, 
the  dvdXvTiKij.     Then   he   reproduces  almost  verbatim  the 
weighty  passage  from  the  pen  of  Rabanus,1  wherein  that 
eminent    authority  had   insisted    upon    the   unwisdom   of 
depriving  the  defenders  of  the  faith  of  all  the  legitimate 
weapons  of  oratory   and  argument,  while  their  opponents 
are  systematically  trained  in  every  art  whereby  the  hearer 
is  conciliated,   persuaded  and  convinced.      And  with  this 

1  The  passage  <Ne  igitur  defensores  .  .  .  dornritent'  in  the  Liber  de 
Pi'aedestinatione  (Migne,  cxxii  368-9)  will  be  found  to  be  nearly  a  transcript 
of  the  passage  in  the  De  Institutitme  Clericorurn  cited  in  note,  p.  144.  No 
writer  with  whom  I  have  met  has  noted  this  remarkable  adoption  from 
Rabanus.  The  custom  of  incorporating  passages  from  other  writers  without 
acknowledgement  was  very  common  in  the  ninth  century,  but  in  the  present 
instance  it  may  be  reasonably  inferred  that  John  considered  the  passage  in 
question  to  be  so  familiar  to  most  readers  as  to'  render  the  mention  of  the 
author's  name  unnecessary. 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

passage  before  him  John  does  not  hesitate  to  avow  that  the 

ars  disputatoria  is  his  chosen  weapon.1 
Features  in         ^°  ^is  k°ld  avowa^  we  may  fairly  refer  a  large  portion 
bis  treatise  of  the   opposition   which  the  De  Praedestinatione  of  John 

Scotus  evoked  —  an  opposition  undoubtedly  augmented  by  the 


evoked  op-  unpopularity  of  Hincinar,  whom  it  was  designed  to  aid.  and 

position.  *  . 

by  the  sympathy  which  Gotteschalk's  harsh  treatment  had 
aroused.  But  the  orthodox  party  were  not  only  thus  called 
upon  to  recognise  the  employment  of  a  new  method  in  the 
conduct  of  theological  controversy,  they  were  also  constrained 
to  listen  to  appeals  to  other  authorities  than  Rabanus  and 
the  traditional  teachers  of  the  Latin  Church.  Where  the 
Latin  Fathers  failed  him,  John  boldly  appealed  to  the 
Fathers  of  the  eastern  Church;  and  where  these  in  turn 
failed  him,  he  appealed  with  equal  confidence  to  the  philo- 
sophers. There  was  something  too  of  haughty  defiance  in 
the  tone  in  which  he  spoke  of  the  errors  of  his  antagonists. 
Their  blunders,  he  compassionately  observed,  were  owing  to 
their  ignorance,  especially  their  ignorance  of  Greek,  for  they 
were  unable  in  their  Latin  tongue  to  understand  or  express 
the  necessary  distinctions  of  meaning.  To  fill  up  the  measure 
of  his  offence,  he  referred  with  undisguised  approval  to  the 
pages  of  Martianus  Capella. 

It  is  certain  that  if  John  had  calculated  on  his  specific 
agreement  with  Hincmar  and  the  *  Eabanici  '  to  enable 
him  to  override  the  opposition  to  which  indications  like 
these  were  certain  to  give  rise,  he  was  soon  undeceived. 
The  Gallican  clergy  appear  to  have  risen  almost  en  masse 
against  the  dictatorship  of  their  metropolitan.  The  hos- 
tility of  the  Church  of  Lyons,  as  exhibited  in  the  treatises 
of  the  writers  already  named,  may  probably  be  in  some  mea- 
sure referred  to  the  rivalry  between  two  great  episcopal  cen- 
tres in  two  hostile  kingdoms  ;  2  but  the  vehemence  of  other 
writers  clearly  proves  that  the  contest  was  waged  far  more 
with  reference  to  distinctive  views  than  geographical  or 

1  Lib.  de  Praedesfinatitme,  Migne,  cxxii  358. 

9  This  certainly  would  seeni  a  more  obvious  explanation  than  the  some- 
what fanciful  one  supplied  by  M.  Haureau  (p.  178)  derived  from  the  dif- 
ferent kinds  of  morality  most  needed  in  north  and  south. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL. 

ethnical  affinities.  The  hostility  of  Fulda,  in  the  kingdom 
of  Louis  the  German,  was  rivalled  by  that  of  Lyons  in  the 
empire  of  Lothair,  while  both  again  were  surpassed  by  that 
exhibited  in  the  realm  of  Charles  the  Bald.  The  manifesto  Pruden- 
which  most  clearly  illustrates  the  relative  position  of  the  l 
two  parties  is  undoubtedly  the  vehement  and  laboured  trea- 
tise of  the  Spaniard,  Prudentius,  at  this  time  bishop  of 
Troyes.  When  John  first  arrived  in  Frankland  he  had 
numbered  Prudentius  among  his  friends,  but  their  intimacy 
had  now  given  place  to  feelings  of  a  very  different  character. 
It  is  evident  indeed  that  there  could  at  no  time  have  existed 
much  real  intellectual  sympathy  between  the  two, — rarely 
are  the  dogmatist  and  the  rationalist  to  be  seen  in  stronger 
contrast. 

At  the  very  commencement  of  his  reply,  Prudentius 
breaks  forth  into  a  sweeping  denunciation  not  merely  of  the 
dogma  which  John  had  defended,  but  of  the  whole  scope  and  circ-  853« 
character  of  his  treatise.  He  had  found  in  its  pages  nearly 
everything  he  most  abhorred  and  mistrusted, — *  the  poison  of 
the  Pelagian  treachery/  '  the  folly  of  Origen,'  *  the  madness 
of  the  Collyrian  heresy.' '  John  reminds  him,  he  says,  very 
forcibly  of  Pelagius.  In  the  manner  in  which  he  had  assailed 
the  orthodox  faith  and  the  Catholic  fathers  he  seemed  to 
have  been  actuated  by  exactly  the  same  spirit.2  Both  of 
them  displayed  a  like  foolish  predilection  for  dialectical  sub- 
tleties ;  those  very  subtleties  against  which  the  leaders  of  the 
Church  in  former  times  had,  in  successive  Councils,  so  wisely 
set  their  faces,  requiring  that  the  defenders  of  the  truth 
should  have  recourse  not  to  the  trickeries  of  sophistic  but  to 
the  obvious  meaning  of  Scripture.3  As  for  John's  quadruple 
method  of  investigation,  he  avers  that  neither  that  nor  any 

1  ' .  .  .  repperi  in  eis  Felagianae  venena  perfidiae,  et  aliquoties  Origenis 
amentiam,  Collyrianorumque  haereticorum  furiositatem.' — De  Praed.  contra 
J.  Scotum,  Migne,  cxv  1011. 

3  ' .  .  .  tama  inipudentia  ortbodoxae  fidei  Patribusque  catholicis  obla- 
trantein  ac  si  units  spiritus  Julianuru  Joanneinque  docuerit.' — Ibid. 

3  ' .  .  .  sancti  procul  dubio  Spiritus  incordatioue  a  patribus  cautum  est 
ut  defensores  propugnatoresque  siraplicis  fidei,  nequaquani  sophisticis  ilht- 
sionibus  sed  Scripturariun  sanctanuu  evidentissimis  allegationibus  uterentur.' 
Ibid.  p.  1013. 


188 


These 
treatises 
of  little 
value  in 
relation  to 
the  predes- 
tinarian 
contro- 
versy. 


JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

otter  kind  of  un  sanctified  sophistry  would  avail  where  the 
Divine  blessing  and  a  genuine  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures 
were  lacking.1  In  reply  to  his  antagonist's  assumption  of 
superiority  on  the  ground  of  his  classic  learning,  he  adduces 
Jerome's  notable  abjuration  of  Cicero — Jerome,  *  who  de- 
liberately preferred  to  understand  the  Scriptures  in  their 
simplicity  to  becoming  versed  in  the  cunning  of  the  rheto- 
ricians,' 2  while  John,  on  the  contrary,  had  supplemented 
whatever  he  was  unable  to  find  among  the  Latins  by  having 
recourse  to  the  Greeks.8  Then  he  falls  with  unsparing 
severity  upon  that  odious  volume,  ille  tuus  Capella,  which 
was  generally  believed  to  have  been  mainly  instrumental  in 
leading  John  into  this  labyrinth  of  error.  He  charges  him 
with  having  adopted  some  of  the  falsities  in  Varro,  falsities 
which  had  determined  Augustine  to  cast  that  author  alto- 
gether aside,  solely  because  they  appeared  to  agree  with 
what  he  had  found  in  Martianus.4 

Of  the  value  of  the  whole  literature  of  this  controversy  it 
is  impossible  to  speak  very  highly.  The  main  points  at  issue 
were  never  really  grasped,  and  the  dispute  degenerated  into 
one  of  words;  while  the  abysmal  question  was  left  un- 
sounded in  those  depths  which  other  intellects,  perhaps  not 
of  greater  natural  power  but  of  severer  habits  of  thought, 
have  since  more  elaborately  essayed.  The  decisions  of  the 
Church  itself,  at  this  time,  exhibit  the  same  inability  fully 

1  'Nee  illud  quadrivium,  nee  ullus  mundanae  sapientiae  species  ad 
omnem  quaestionem  solvendum  sufficere  abeque  gratia  Dei  et  Me,  quae  per 
dilectiouem  operatur,  ac  veraci  studio  et  sanctarmn  scientia  Scripturarum.' 
Ibid.  p.  1016. 

2  '  Malle  per  se  sanctarum  Scripturarum  dicta  intelligi  quam  rlietorum 
controversiis  inservire.' — Ibid.  p.  1017. 

3  '  Qui,  quod  in  Latinis  defecerit,  ad  Graeca  nos  retrah.it.' — Ibid.  p. 
1305. 

4  '  Nam  ille  tuns  Gapella,  exceptis  aliis,  vel  rnaxime  to  in  hunc  labyrin- 
thum  induxisae  creditur,  cujus  meditatione  magis  quam  veritati  evangelicae 
animum  appulisti.    Quin  etiam  cum  legeres  beati  Augustini  libros,  quos  De 
Civitate  Dei  adversus    paganorum   fallacissimas    falsissimasque  opiuionea 
mirabili  affluentia  digessit,  invenisti  eum  posuisse  ac  destruxisse  quaedam  ex 
libris  Varrouis,  quibus,  quoniam  Capellae  tuo  consona  videbantur,  potius 
assentiri  quam  veridici  Augustiui  allegationibus  fideni  adhibere  delegisti.' 
p.  1294. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL. 

to  comprehend  the  bearings  of  the  question.  An  able  in- 
vestigator of  the  course  of  the  whole  controversy  has  ob- 
served that  even  in  the  language  of  the  Council  of  Chiersy 
there  '  is  nothing  to  which  the  most  rigid  predestinarian 
might  not  subscribe.' l 

The  sequel  of  these  polemics,  which  shews  us  the  decision  Sequel  of 
of  the  Council  of  Chiersy  reversed  in  855,  at  the  Council  of  J^™'  in 
Valence,  when  the  ineptiae  qiiaestiunculae,  and  the  pultes  Sc,o-  the  ninth 
torum 2  of  John  and  his  supporters  were  condemned  as  inimical  c 
to  the  faith — a  censure  confirmed  by  the  verbal  adoption  of 
these  decrees  at  the  Council  of  Langres  in  859  a — proves  that 
Hincmar  had  scarcely  exercised  a  sound  discretion  in  his 
choice  of  a  champion.4    Mere  learning  and  skill  in  argument 
could  not  atone  for  the  evident  laxity  of  doctrine  of  the 
brilliant  Irishman.     The   boldness  with  which  he  rejected 
authority  unless  that  authority  appeared  to  him  supported 
by  reason — his  denial  of  the  personality  of  the  principle  of 
evil,  and  of  the  eternity  of  future  punishment — his  frequent 
appeals   to   those   philosophers  whom   the  Church  had  ex- 
pressly discarded — all  marked  him  out  as  a  teacher  little 
in  unison  with  the  doctrines  and  principles  of  the  Latin 
Church. 

For  our  special  purpose,  however,  the  foregoing  details  Value  of  Us 
of  the  controversy  between  John  and  his  antagonists  have  j,1^]^*"^. 
the  highest  value.  They  belong  to  what  was  really  the  tiveofthe 
turning  point  in  the  history  of  mediaeval  education  and 
learning.  They  exhibit,  side  by  side  with  the  too  mechanical 
and  unintelligent  traditions  handed  down  by  Bede  and  Alcuin, 
another  element — the  spirit  of  enquiry,  reason,  and  discus- 
sion. For  the  advance  thus  made  we  are  probably  indebted 
quite  as  much  to  Eabanus  as  to  John  Scotus — the  former 
opened  the  gates  through  which  the  latter  fought  a  passage, 
to  fall,  if  we  may  pursue  the  metaphor,  undiscoverable  among 
the  slain.  Mystery,  indeed,  gathers  round  the  whole  career 

1  Mozley,  Augustinian  Doctrine  of  Predestination,  p.  411. 

2  Gossart,  xv  3-6.  »  Ibid,  xv  537-8. 

*  Ampere  justly  characterises  John,  in  his  relation  to  Hincmar,  as- '  tin 
allie"  fort  habile,  mais  aasez  daiigereux,  et  dont  le  secours  1'avait  compromis,' 
iii  87. 


190  JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

of  this  very  remarkable  man.     While  some  hold  that  he  is 
to  he  traced  returning  to   England   a   fugitive   from  the 
.Doubts        Frankish   court,  propter  infamiam,  and  finally  meeting  at 
John's  "^    Malmesbnry   with  a   sudden   and    tragical   end,    others,  it 
latter          would  seem  with  greater  probability,  are  disposed  to  con- 
clude that  his  career  closed  in  Frankland,1  and  that,  long 
after  the  controversy  with  Gotteschalk  was  over,  he  continued 
to  adorn  the  Palace  School,  protected  and  esteemed  by  his 
royal  patron  so  long  as  that  patron  lived. 
Quiddistat        Of  the  relations  between   the   two   a  story  is   told  by 

iuter /  -r.    .  ... 

William  of  Malmesbnry,  which,  containing  as  it  does  the  best 
bon  mot  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  admirably  illustrating  the 
peculiar  bent  of  the  intellectual  activity  of  the  time,  we  may 
venture  to  tell  once  more.  In  John's  mode  of  approaching 
a  question,  the  scholastic  method  is,  for  the  first  time, 
clearly  to  be  recognised — a  method  of  which  it  may  be  said 
that  the  endeavour  to  distinguish  and  define  was  at  once  its 
weakness  and  its  strength.  Clearly  perceiving,  and  few  have 
ever  seen  so  well,  how  much  all  human  knowledge  depends 
on  classification,  the  schoolmen  were  untiring  in  their  efforts 
to  elaborate  distinctions,  and  to  refer  every  imaginable  object 
to  it3  class.  Their  first  enquiries  consequently  nearly  always 
assumed  this  form — Quid  est  inter  or  quid  distat  inter,  this 
thing  and  that  ?  Tell  me  the  differentia  of  each,  and  I  shall 
begin  to  understand  its  real  nature,  its  distinctive  attributes. 
We  may  be  perfectly  sure  that  in  his  intercourse  with  so  en- 
quiring an  intellect  as  that  of  Charles  the  Bald,  and  in  his 
numerous  controversies  in  Frankland,  John  Scotus  had  heard 
the  enquiry,  Quid  distat  inter — ?  until  even  he  was  well-nigh 
weary  of  the  sound.  But  there  were  hours  of  respite,  and  at 
the  royal  board  monarch  and  philosopher  alike  would  seek 
rather  for  amusement  than  instruction.  It  was  one  day  they 
thus  sat — John  opposite  the  king.  The  meal  was  ended,  and 

1  Huber,  pp.  108-115,  sums  up  very  clearly  the  evidence  for  Erigena's 
later  history.  He  points  out  (p.  121)  that  there  is  a  good  reason  for  believ- 
ing that  John  was  in  frequent  communication  with  Charles  close  upon  the 
time  of  the  hitter's  death  in  877.  Christlieh  concurs  in  this  view,  and  thinks 
it  probable  that  John  continued  to  reside  at  the  FrankiiJi  court  even  after 
that  event,  p.  25. 


THE  IRISH  SCHOOL. 

the  winecup  was  circling",  when  John,  less  mindful  perhaps 
than  usual  of  the  necessary  decorum,  under  the  influence  of 
some  generous  vintage,  appears  to  have  transgressed  by  some 
trivial  act  against  the  Frankish  etiquette.1  Charles,  who  was 
in  a  jocose  vein,  imagined  he  now  had  the  keen-witted  Celt 
at  his  mercy.  Quid  distat,  he  asked,  inter  sottum  8  et  Scottum? 
'  Nought,  may  it  please  your  majesty,'  replied  John,  *  save 
this  table.* 

Quid  distat  and  the  spirit  it  typified  survived  not  only  The  con- 
the  monarch  and  the  philosopher,  but  also  the  Carolingian  nexion  *>e- 

r  r         '  .  °  tween  this 

dynasty.  The  invasions  of  the  Northmen,  irreparable  as  era  and 
were  the  losses  they  inflicted  on  learning,  were  attended  by  university 
less  fatal  results  in  the  land  of  the  Frank  than  in  our  own  of  Paris, 
country.  The  traditions  which,  after  the  time  of  Alfred  the 
Great,  arc  no  longer  to  be  discerned  in  England,  may  plainly 
be  traced  in  France.  The  influence  of  John  Scotus,  indeed, 
is  of  that  vaguer  and  more  general  kind  which  is  felt  rather 
than  seen,  but  from  Rabanus  we  can  perceive  the  handing 
down  of  an  umnistakeable  and  unbroken  tradition.  In  Eric 
of  Auxerre,  the  pupil  of  both  Rabanus  and  Lupus  Servatus, 
the  panegyiisfc  of  Charles  the  Bald  and  the  tutor  of  his  son 
Lothair,  the  teaching  of  Fulda  found  an  able  supporter. 
Auxerre  became  a  chief  centre  of  learning,  and  among 
Eric's  pupils  was  Remy  of  Auxerre,  who  taught  both  at 
Bheiins  and  at  Paris.  At  Rheims,  Remy  numbered  among 
his  followers  Hildebald  and  Blidulfus,  the  eminent  founders 
of  the  schools  in  Lotharingia,  and  Sigulfus  and  Frodoard, 
who  carried  on  the  school  at  Rheims,  and  prepared  the  way 
for  Gerbert.  At  Paris  he  had  for  his  pupil  the  saintly  and 
austere  Odo  of  Cluny,  a  monk  from  St.  Martin  of  Tours.  At 
Cluny,  Odo  became  in  turn  a  teacher,  and  revived,  with 

1  '  Carolus  fronte  hilarior  post  quaedam  alia,  cum  vidisset  Johannem 
quiddam  fecisse  quod  Galilean um  comitalem  offend eret,  &c.' — William  of 
Haluiesbury,  De  Pontif.  Lib.  v  ;  Gale,  Scriptorea,  i  360. 

a  SOTTTTS,  stolidus,  bard  us,  Gallis  sot.'  Dncange,  s.  v.  Charles,  perhaps, 
is  hardly  entitled  to  the  credit  of  this  witticism,  for  Thetdiilfua  had  written 
forty  years  before, 

'Hie  Scott  us,  sottus,  cottus  trinomen  habebit.'  Migne,  cv320% 


J92  JOHN  SCOTUS  ERIGENA. 

CHAP,     eminent  success,  the  observance  of  the  Benedictino  rule  and 

•y 

x_ ,'- ^   the  cultivation  of  letters.     Under  his  teaching  were  trained 

a  numerous  band :  Aymer,  Baldwin,  Gottfried,  Landric, 
Wulfad,  Adhegrin,  Hildebald,  Eliziard,  and  John,  Odo's 
admiring  biographer.  These  were  the  men  who,  in  conjunc- 
tion with  the  pupils  of  Gerbert,  sustained  the  work  of  edu- 
cation in  the  tenth  century,  while  Hucbald  of  Liege,  pro- 
ceeding from  St.  Gall,  instructed  the  canons  of  Ste,  Genevieve 
at  Paris,  and  taught  in  the  cathedral  school.  In  the  eleventh 
century  the  pupils  of  Abbo  of  Fleury,  among  whom  were 
Haymothe  historian,  Bernard,  Herveus,  Odalric,  Girard,  and 
Thierry,  were  the  most  eminent  scholars  of  their  day  ;  while 
Drogo  taught  with  eminent  success  at  Paris  where  the  Cape- 
tiaii  dynasty  had  permanently  taken  up  its  residence.  The 
neighbouring  schools,  Chartres,  Tours,  and  Le  Bee,  were 
attracted  to  a  common  centre :  numbers  multiplied  and  the 
ardour  for  learning  visibly  increased.  Among  Drogo's  pupils 
was  John  the  Deaf,  and  John,  in  turn,  was  the  teacher  of 
Roscellinus.  Roscellinns,  trained  also  in  the  famous  school 
at  Chartres,  had  for  his  pupils,  Peter  of  Cluny,  Odo  of  Cam- 
brai,  and  William  of  Champeaux ;  and  when,  in  the  year 
Conolu-  1109,  William  of  Champeaux  opened  his  school  for  the 
Bion.  study  of  logic  in  Paris,  the  university  era  had  already  begun. 

But  even  when  regarded  apart  from  that  all-important 
commencement,  and  merely  as  an  isolated  episode  in  the 
history  of  European  culture,  the  revival  that  has  occupied 
our  attention  is  deserving  of  careful  study.  It  exhi- 
bits, as  it  were  in  miniature,  the  working  of  those  three- 
fold tendencies,  to  one  or  other  of  which  well-nigh  all 
the  chief  moments  in  the  progress  of  modern  thought  may 
be  referred  : — the  traditions,  handed  down  from  republican 
and  imperial  Borne,  of  law  and  order,  of  reverence  for 
authority  and  the  established  order  of  things — the  more 
independent  and  vigorous  intellectual  characteristics  of 
Teutonism,  submitting,  but  in  no  slavish  fashion,  to  such  of 
those  traditions  as,  after  candid  scrutiny  and  lengthened 
trial,  it  finds  itself  increasingly  unwilling  to  reject — the 


THE  IRISH   SCHOOL.  193 

inquiring,  restless,  and  often  unruly  Celtic  spirit,  touched  and 
quickened  by  Hellenic  thought,  delighting  in  the  discovery 
of  new  paths,  impatient  of  every  unproven  formula,  and 
accepting  half-mistrustfully,  at  best,  even  what  comes  to 
it  stamped  with  the  highest  sanction  of  wisdom  and  ex- 
perience. 

And  when,  after  looking  back  over  the  thousand  years 
that  have  elapsed  since  the  reign  of  Charles  the  Bald,  the 
student  turns  from  the  ninth  to  the  nineteenth  century,  and 
recognises  these  self-same  tendencies  in  more  extended 
operation  around  him  at  the  present  day,  and  at  the  same 
time  recalls  the  advance  that  Christian  Europe  has  made — 
the  purer  faith,  the  fuller  knowledge,  the  happier  lot  vouch- 
safed to  us — he  cannot  but  gather  something  of  hope  and 
confidence  for  the  future.  He  may  even  venture  to  look 
upon  these  diverse  manifestations  of  the  human  intellect  as 
each  an  element  of  good,  a  divinely  appointed  factor  in 
human  progress  to  aid  us  in  attaining  to  a  yet  nobler  and 
more  perfect  existence. 


I.ONDOK  :    PIIIXTET)     BT 

swrriswoona  ADO  co..  MEW-STREET 

AMD    PARLIAMENT    SIHFITT 
AN«TAT!SCHfR-ORUCK  v.  C.MRIS.BERIIN.  H.  58. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT 


V. 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000  954  271     3 


